Rootless
by KingsandThieves
Summary: The search for a beloved missing family member brings Kara to Skyrim, leading her straight to Riften and, to nobody's surprise, the Thieves Guild. Some habits you just can't shake.
1. You Had Me At Thieves Guild

**Disclaimer: **Bethesda's game, I'm just messing about with it.

**Rating: **Rating changed to T because, for once, my writing did not turn to a darker road as the story progressed. Whether that's good or not, it's pretty tame, with just some brief adult situations, violence, and language.

**Pairing: **Slight F!Dragonborn/Brynjolf romance & tension; more of a precursor of things to come than anything else.

**Note(s): **This deviates almost entirely from the Thieves Guild playthrough, but still has plenty of thieving :) Cover picture is art by Brett Manning (brettisagirldotcom) Enjoy!

* * *

_Work your fingers to the bone, building castles out of snow_

_I'm a nomad walking on, humming to the same old song_

_Lower-case society, tied to no community_

_A kingdom without a king, with no sense of belonging_

_-_Marina and the Diamonds

* * *

"You're going to Riften?"

Kara looked up from her pack to the woman standing in the doorway. "Yeah. What's it to you?"

Lydia narrowed her eyes. Kara hadn't asked for a housecarl - or even worse, a nanny. "_Why_?"

"Why not?" Kara hefted up her pack, testing it for weight. She glanced around the small room, taking inventory in her head. The Bannered Mare would never miss her.

Lydia was still staring. "Because it's _awful_."

Kara threw the strap over her head, adjusting the buckle on her shoulder. Over that, she slung her bow. "Yeah, yeah, scum and villainy. I heard it the first time."

"And you're still going?"

"Looks like it!" She brushed past Lydia, and headed for the steps down.

"Wait!" Lydia followed, standing at the top of the stairs. She held the Axe of Whiterun. "What do I do with this?"

"Sell it!"

Lydia gasped from behind her, nearly falling down the stairs in her haste, still clutching the axe. "With all due respect, my Thane-"

Kara smirked, cutting through the common room, dodging noisy patrons with full tankards and empty pockets. "You know, whenever someone starts a sentence that way, what usually follows is the opposite of respectful. But don't let me interrupt you; please, go on."

"The axe of Whiterun - it's an _honor_ - you can't just sell it to some swindling vendor like Belethor-"

"Hi," Kara said, leaning against the bar. She dug a few septims out of the pouch tied to her belt and laid them on the counter.

The woman behind it looked confused, pausing in her vigorous scrubbing of the wood. "You're not staying?"

Kara almost smiled. "Everybody sounds so surprised."

She turned away, but Lydia persisted. "That's because they _are_ surprised. You can't just throw this away, it was given to you by our Jarl-"

Kara stopped in front of the door, looking back at Lydia, her grey eyes hard. "_Your_ Jarl."

Lydia slumped for just a fraction of a second, staring at the woman she was sworn to serve all her life. Then she straightened, her mouth pulled taut in a line, brow furrowed.

Bowing her head, she said, "Yes, of course. Enjoy your trip, my Thane. I'll wait at Dragonsreach until you return."

"Right. If I'm not back after a week, come look for my body!"

Shoving open the door with one hand, Kara stepped out into the night. This time, Lydia didn't follow, and for the first time since coming to Skyrim, Kara was free.

* * *

"It's not like I _wanted_ any of this," Kara said, shifting. The bench beneath her was uncomfortable, but she'd take it over a walk across Skyrim any day. "I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, y'know?"

The driver of the cart grunted. Kara took that as her sign to go on.

"I came here for one thing - _one thing!_ - and then I got sucked up into all this dragon nonsense. Did you know they arrested me as soon as I crossed the border? They called me a Stormcloak. I don't even know what that _is_, or I didn't, anyway, until I met that Ralof fellow. Some help he turned out to be…"

Kara remembered the man who had saved her life, from the dragon at Helgen and the Imperials both. She'd been all too happy to trust him at the time, even going so far as to take him up on the offer of seeking shelter with his sister in Riverwood. But afterwards? It had been one sidetrack after another. His sister, Gerdur, wanted her to go to Whiterun, and that awful shopkeeper had his own favor to ask of her, sending her skulking through a barrow den with tricks and traps. It was nothing she wasn't used to, given her past, but when Ralof told her to join the Stormcloaks, she drew the line.

"Join the Stormcloaks," Kara muttered, snorting. "Fight for Skyrim? I don't even _know_ Skyrim!"

The driver didn't say anything. Kara went back to stargazing, laying on the bench with one arm behind her head. One simple journey with one objective was turning out to be a muddy, confusing mess. Okay, so maybe it wasn't _that_ simple to trek across a country you hadn't seen since you were a child, but it wasn't like she was plotting to kill the Emperor or something. She was just trying to help.

She tried to think of what her uncle would say in her position. Something wise and wordy; that was always his way. _But Father, what would he say?_ He was always coming up with sayings on the go, right when they needed it. It was a talent of his she'd always envied, and often tried to imitate, to no avail.

_One thing at a time_, she thought. _That's a good one._

Kara cleared her throat. "Uh, Bjorlam, was it? How many times have you been to Riften?"

"Plenty."

"What can you tell me about it?"

"Well, what do you wanna know?"

_If it's such a terrible, filthy place…why would a young girl want to go there?_

* * *

Someone nudged her. Kara made a muffled sound and rolled over.

"Oy. Get up, girl. We're outside Riften."

Kara opened her eyes, sitting up in the back of the wagon. It was just before dawn, the sky a slate-gray, the air chill. Dew sparkled on the autumn leaves of the trees lining the road stretching away from them, and mist hung low over the lake spanning the skyline to their right. Slowly, she climbed down, stretching her sore muscles and gritting her teeth. Her stomach grumbled as she draped her satchel over one shoulder.

She turned to Bjorlam. "You know where I can get a bite of food?"

"Try the Bee and Barb. And here." He handed her a brown bottle filled with liquid, stamped with a label that read _Black-Briar_. "Good luck, girl. You'll need it in there."

Kara held it up to the weak light, before smiling and sliding it into her bag. "Thanks. Might be that I will."

She watched him rumble and creak down the road, before looking up at the light blossoming in the eastern sky, at the birds flying overhead, calling back and forth to each other on the air currents. Nothing felt better than being outside. She skipped a little, before walking up the road towards the stone walls just past the stables. She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the forest and lake water, of horses and hay from the nearby stables. Distantly, she could almost smell bread baking, and if she was very quiet, she could already hear someone hard at work at a forge.

"Doesn't seem so bad," she murmured, adjusting her bag and climbing the hill.

Or, so she thought, until she reached the entrance and found the gates shut. She turned to the lone guard standing outside, frowning.

"Hey, what's-"

"Visitor's tax. Pay up."

Kara raised her eyebrows. "You're kidding me, right?"

"No. Any visitors to the city need to pay, or you can't go in."

Kara sighed. She had heard this kind of noise before. Remembering what had happened last time, she took a deep breath and smiled.

"Well, as I live and breathe: a shakedown! It's been a long time since I've been involved in one of these-"

The guard looked around. "Hey, keep your voice down, will you?"

She raised it instead, practically shouting. "I'm sorry, what's that? I can't hear you over the sound of this shakedown!"

"All right, I'll let you in! Gods, just be _quiet_."

She smiled sweetly. "Thank you."

He opened the doors with a key, muttering to himself all the while, before gesturing for her to head inside. She brushed him as she walked past, and came up with a coin pouch as she entered Riften for the first time. The doors closed behind her, and she snickered to herself, tossing the coin purse up in the air and catching it. _That'll teach you._

She was just slipping her spoils into her bag when a rusty voice called out. "Hey! You!"

Kara turned and jumped, squeaking. Leaning against the nearest building was a bulky man dressed all in steel armor. His dark hair was pulled back from his face, and his thick arms were crossed over his chest.

_Oh, shit_.

"Uh. Yeah?"

"I don't know you," the man answered, his voice deep and gravelly. "You in Riften looking for trouble?"

She frowned. "You know everybody here?"

"Everybody _worth_ knowing. Now you got five seconds to tell me what you're doing here, or I'll pound your pretty little face in."

Kara grinned. "You think I'm pretty?"

"_One_."

"All right! Let's not be hasty. I'm uh, looking for someone." She reached into her bag. He straightened, unfolding his arms, but she held out a hand. "Wait, I just…here." She pulled out a piece of parchment, holding it up to show him. "This girl. You seen her?"

"Might have. Can't say for sure." The look on his face said otherwise.

Kara sighed, pulling out the coin purse she had just filched. She tossed it to him. "There. How about now?"

He opened it up and peered inside, shaking the bag. The coins jingled merrily. He stashed it on his belt, before stepping closer to inspect the portrait drawn on the parchment. He scowled, before nodding.

"Sure, yeah. Came through just a few days ago."

"Any idea where she is now?"

"No. Try the Bee and Barb. That's where the rest of the sods like you end up."

"Right. Well, uh, thanks."

She made a move to put the sketch back in her bag, but he grabbed her elbow, jerking her close. She made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, as he loomed over her.

"Listen, the last thing the Black-Briars need around here is some troublemaker tryin' to steal a piece of the action."

"Um, okay-"

"They have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watchin' their backs, so keep your nose out of their business. Understood?"

Kara nodded.

"The name's Maul. I watch the streets for 'em." He glanced over her shoulder, at the bow strapped to her back. "Don't care if you know how to use that; you step out of line against Maven, I take you down. Get it?"

She nodded again, and he let her go. She stumbled back, before shooting him a glare. He flashed her a quick, menacing smile. _Creep._

"If you need dirt on anythin', I'm your guy. If not, steer clear."

_Dirt, huh? _Kara tossed back her unruly hair, before extending her arm in front of her and pulling up her sleeve. She watched his gaze focus in on the mark on her forearm, just below her elbow. "I'm not exactly clean myself."

"We're speakin' the same language, then." He jerked his head. "Go on, get out of here before someone sees me talking to you and starts asking questions. The last thing you need is the Black-Briars in your business."

"Hang on - you mentioned the Thieves Guild. They hole up here?"

Maul snorted. "You're kidding, right? My brother Dirge works in their hideout. Used to run with them myself, but took a job with Maven after they started hittin' a rough patch. You want in or something?"

Kara shook her head fervently, letting her sleeve fall back down. "No."

He cocked an eyebrow. "That scar on your arm says differently."

"Yeah, well, I say no. I'm just looking for someone."

"Right. If you change your mind, find Brynjolf in the marketplace. Might be he could use someone like you."

"He'll have to do without."

Shoving the sketch back in her bag, Kara hurried off down the street, until she was sure he'd lost interest. She tested her arm to make sure he hadn't done any lasting damage, before stooping down low and picking up a piece of broken stone from the ground. She turned and threw it as hard as she could. It clanked off his armor-clad back, and when he glanced back at her over his shoulder, she took several large steps backward. He just shook his head, before facing the north gate once more. She stuck her tongue out and continued down the street.

For the next hour, Kara wandered, easily finding the Bee and Barb and several other establishments, including the marketplace. She climbed up on top of the well in the middle of the square and stood, spinning slowly, surveying the city as the sun rose. Riften didn't look like much, with its leaning, ramshackle buildings and the smell of fish lingering in the air, but the breeze was cool, and Kara could hear the waters of the canal gurgling below on its way to Lake Honrich. All in all, not _too_ terrible, but she wasn't there for the sights. She let her hand drop to her satchel, running her hand over the leather. The breeze stirred the ends of her wild black curls, and she stared out over the mostly empty, sleeping city. _Where are you? _She whistled once like a bird, the way they used to, but there was no reply.

Kara took a deep breath. _One thing at a time. _

The Bee and Barb was empty, save for an Argonian woman behind the bar. Weaving through the three tables, Kara put on her best "I am a nice, _not_ crazy person" face and tried to sit on one of the stools at the bar. It was harder than it looked with the bow on, and even with some maneuvering, she still slid off twice. When she finally figured it out, the woman was staring at her with an undisguised look of bewilderment.

_So much for not being crazy. _"Uh, sorry about that. Longbows, you know? What can you do?" Kara shrugged and laughed. The woman laughed too, but unsurely, as if she was wondering if she should call for the guard. Kara cleared her throat. "Anyway, uh, I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for me."

The woman eyed her suspiciously. "Not many ask questions in Riften."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. Not quite the popular business, huh? But I swear, I'm not trying to infiltrate the Thieves Guild or get secrets out or anything. I'm just looking for someone."

The Argonian seemed to relax a bit. "All right, maybe I can help." When Kara showed her the sketch, she nodded. "Right, I've seen her. Young. Couldn't have been more than eighteen."

Kara nodded, her heart pounding. "She came in here?"

"Yep. Few days ago. It was raining, and she was soaked to the skin. Didn't have a septim on her but I felt bad. She was just a kid, you know? So I let her stay for the night. Went up to offer her breakfast the next morning, but she was already gone."

_Damn_. "Any idea where she might have gone?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry. I didn't get to talk to her much. She was dead tired when she came in, and after I told her she could stay, she went straight to bed. Well, almost…"

"Almost?"

"Yes, I remember now. Before she went upstairs, she ate. I thought she could use a hot meal, so I gave her some stew and bread. She sat down at one of the tables, and I remember Mjoll and Aerin sat with her, talked to her for a bit."

"Mjoll and Aerin. Okay, anyone else?"

"Hmm." The woman tapped her chin with one long-nailed finger. "Come to think of it, yes, on her way up the stairs, Sapphire stopped her. Don't know what was said, but it was brief. After that, it was candles out. Like I said, she was really tired. Poor thing must have walked from wherever she came from."

"Yeah, she probably did." Kara could picture her plodding onward, one foot in front of the other, teeth chattering in a fierce downpour. She clenched her fist against her thigh, before mustering a smile and shoving the sketch back in her bag. "Thank you very much."

"Can I ask why you're looking for her?"

"She's family. A runaway. I just want to bring her home."

"What could a young girl like that be running from?"

_Good question_. That was the biggest mystery Kara had yet to solve, but there would be time for that later. She reached into her coin purse and pulled out a handful of septims.

"Can I get a room?"

"Sure, it's yours for the day. My name's Keerava, by the way. Anything you need, let me know. If you have any more questions, my partner Talen-Jei will be up soon. He might know something."

"Thanks, but I think for now, I'm going to hit the hay. Was up almost all night on the way from Whiterun."

"That's quite the journey. I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

"Thanks." Kara managed to wrangle herself off the stool and head for the stairs. Before she climbed, she turned back. "And Keerava?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you, for taking care of her."

Keerava nodded, wiping down the counter. "'Course. Someone's got to be decent around here."

Kara didn't reply.

When she had settled in her room, she crawled beneath the thin blankets, thinking about everything that had happened in the last week. It still felt like a dream, standing before Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun, shooting a dragon between the eyes with her bow. _How did I get here? _And there was that word, and the great shouting from the mountain. "Dragonborn." The word tasted strange on her tongue, but it reminded her of a rare time in her childhood, when her father was actually home, and telling her tales every night before he tucked her into bed.

One night, he'd told her a story of Talos, the mighty warrior who Ascended to godhood beside the Eight Divines. He told her of the immense honor bestowed upon him, the blessing of the Dragon God Akatosh, the gift of his blood. "He was Dragonborn," her father said. "He possessed the blood and soul of a dragon, but the body of a man."

When she'd asked him what that meant, all he would tell her was a poem, a riddle.

_When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world_

_When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped_

_When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles_

_When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne and the White Tower falls_

_When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding_

_The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn_

She'd never understood it, and still didn't. To her, they were just tales. To _everyone_ they were just tales, but the difference was now everyone else was starting to believe them, whispers flowing like wind across Skyrim. And even though there had been that shouting from the mountain, swirling around Kara as she stood over the corpse of a very real dragon, the ground shaking beneath her feet, she still couldn't believe it.

_These are Nord stories_, she reasoned, shutting her eyes and rolling over. _How can they be about me when I'm half Imperial?_


	2. Dragonborn: Shaken, Not Stirred

"Step up to the block, prisoner, nice and easy."

All eyes were on her, watching, and her heartbeat was pounding in her ears. "No, no, no, _look_, you don't understand, I'm here looking for someone!"

Hands grabbed her, pushed her forward. She dug in her heels, struggling. "Come on, you can't kill me just because I'm _here_. I'm not with these people, I'm not with them!"

They dragged her forward, forcing her to her knees. The block was slick with blood, the metal smell of it rising to her nose, making her gag. They hadn't done so much as kick the body out of the way, and he was still lying there, his neck leaking. She had to look away, made herself look away. "Please," she shrieked, thrashing, even as they held her down. "Please, I'm not part of this, _I'm from Cyrodiil_!"

A shadow covered the sun, and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, the wind swallowing her screams.

Kara woke in an instant, sitting up straight, one hand flat against her chest to calm her racing heart. The smell of fire clung to the inside of her nose, and she remembered all too well the sight of bodies burning, blackened faces melting. She shivered. Her blankets were covered in sweat and she kicked them off her legs quickly, standing and stumbling to the pitcher of water in the corner. She poured some into a cup with shaking hands, before draining it in one swallow.

She hadn't slept much since Helgen, and when she did… She didn't understand it - couldn't. She hadn't been on the list. She didn't even know what a Stormcloak was until she came to and those damn Nords started talking to her. Her name wasn't on the list, and yet, they were going to _kill her anyway_. She'd had many close scrapes before in her life, but none so close as kneeling at the chopping block and having to face her mortality. Part of her was almost glad that dragon had swooped in when it did. The bodies flashed in her mind once more, and she set down the cup more roughly than she intended to.

She tried to take a full breath, but found she couldn't. Crossing the room, Kara threw open her window. It was so hard for her to breathe indoors, and the breeze that rolled in was a welcome change. Judging by the bright sunlight, Kara guessed it was midday; not surprisingly, she'd only managed a few hours of sleep. She leaned out, looking down over the marketplace. The place was crawling with people now, and the shouts of stall keepers wafted up to her window.

Maul's words from earlier that morning came to her. She wondered which one down there was Brynjolf. _Well, whoever he is, he can go stuff himself. I have more important things to do._

Kara closed the window and dressed quickly, opting for plain clothes - a white shirt over brown pants that she tucked into boots - instead of her leather armor, leaving her bow and arrows hidden beneath the bed. Carefully, she hid a dagger at the small of her back, and a knife in her right boot. _Just in case._

Before she left, she rifled through her pouch, pulling out her coin purse. After doing a quick count in her head, she frowned, tying the pouch securely to her belt. Bribing people and spending too long in Whiterun had cut her septims shorter than she would have liked. If this search took longer than expected, she'd have to look for work soon. _A prospect I don't enjoy dwelling on,_ she thought sourly, remembering the "work" she'd found in Whiterun.

When she entered the common room of the Bee and Barb, she found it too was bustling with activity. There were people seated at the bar already, and others filling the tables, tucking into lunch and talking over each other. In one corner, there was a burst of laughter. Kara hunched her shoulders, turning towards the door; as she did, she accidentally bumped a woman who was just coming inside. The woman shot her a nasty glare.

"I don't have any business with you, so get out of my face."

"I'm not in your face," Kara muttered. _But one more remark like that, and I will be._

The woman narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?" She was only an inch or so taller than Kara, with dark hair swept back from her face, and a scowl darkening her severe features.

By then, people had turned to see what the commotion was. Kara could feel their eyes on her back, and she stood up straighter. "I'm not looking for trouble, all right? Just let me pass."

The woman stepped closer, barely an inch from Kara's face. Her breath smelled like mint and honey. "You'd better watch yourself around here, newcomer. Stay out of my way, and maybe you'll live long enough to leave this place. Understood?"

"Yeah, I hear you loud and clear. Now…" Kara shoved the woman away from her.

Her eyes widened as she tumbled back, caught off guard. She knocked into someone's table, spilling their mead. They stood and began shouting, but the woman only had eyes for Kara. "You _bitch_," she said, pointing at Kara. "I swear, I will-"

Suddenly Keerava appeared, holding a broom like it was a greatsword. "Sapphire, that's enough. Get out before I call the guards."

_Sapphire_. Kara looked at the woman sharply, remembering what Keerava had told her when she'd arrived. _Son of a bitch_. Pushing a renegade curl out of her eyes, Kara stepped forward, offering Sapphire a hand. "Look, I'm sorry about that. Come on, we could-"

Sapphire spit in her palm, before running for the door. She kicked it open, slamming it shut behind her.

There was a brief lull of silence, before everyone went back to what they were doing, like it hadn't even happened. Kara looked around, not entirely shocked, but not expecting that, either. _Riften._ She shook her head, starting to understand what Lydia had been on about. What her housecarl didn't know, though, was that Kara had seen far worse, even in Cyrdodiil. _Especially_ in Cyrodiil. This was nothing.

After getting the nearest table a new tankard of mead, Keerava handed Kara a stained washrag. Kara wiped the saliva off her palm, before folding it and handing it back.

"I just did something really stupid, didn't I?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess: I'm going to regret that."

"Yep."

Kara rolled her eyes. "Joy. Anyway, thanks for stepping in."

Keerava nodded. "It's not so uncommon. I can't stand this city, but I at least get to smack some dolts around while I'm here." Taking her broom, she went back to her place behind the bar.

Kara sighed, exiting out the same door that Sapphire had. _I just want to find her and go home. Is that so much to ask for?_

It was warm outside, a cool breeze blowing past. As Kara turned the corner of the Bee and Barb, she got a full view of the marketplace as one of the customers. Here, the noise of the city seemed to intensify, blocking out all other sounds. The clanking of a hammer on an anvil was paramount, followed by the hiss of steam; in the shade of the inn, farmers and merchants stood beside their carts and stalls, calling out their wares, bellowing, "Fresh meat, just killed this morning" and "Buy some armor and live to tell about it!" A beggar sat in front of Kara on a barrel, eyes closed, hands out, like he was praying. A priest of Mara walked by, dropping two septims in his hand. Immediately he ambled off to buy some drink. She rolled her eyes, before heading towards the Argonian shouting about legendary craftsmanship. She sold him a gold necklace she hadn't intended to part with, but he didn't give her nearly as much as she would have liked for it.

She was just thinking of heading back to the Bee and Barb to go sniffing around in the other rooms, when she noticed a man bending over a crate, rifling around inside. Swinging directly from the belt at his hip was a bulging coin purse. Immediately, Kara's hands twitched.

_Don't do that._

_But…money._

_Don't. Lots of people watching. Guards nearby. Jail time imminent._

_But…money!_

Kara sauntered over, pretending to go through her bag while she watched the man out of the corner of her eye. He seemed very invested in his crate, completely oblivious to what was going on. And if he was dumb enough to wear his coin purse angled behind him, where anyone could steal it, didn't he deserve to be taught a lesson?

_Yes,_ the thief on Kara's left shoulder nodded sagely. _All of that makes sense._

The normal law-abiding citizen on her right shoulder folded her arms. _Bad idea._

Kara thought it over for a split-second before pulling her hand out of her satchel, and reaching behind her for the dagger at the small of her back. _I'm doing it_.

She had just cut the purse strings when someone bumped her from behind, pushing her right into the man. He stood up quickly, turning, surprise flashing in his green eyes. He was a head taller than her, with shoulder-length red hair and matching stubble across his jaw. There was a scar on his left cheek, like he'd been in a knife fight a long time ago. He immediately grabbed Kara's wrist, looking down at the pouch in one hand, and the dagger in the other.

"Well," he said softly. "What do we have here?"

Kara glanced over her shoulder. There was a girl standing there, presumably the one who had bumped into them. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a braid, and she held a basket full of vegetables. When she saw Kara's face, her baby-blue eyes widened.

Kara gaped. "Eiri?"

The girl gasped. She turned on one heel and ran, dropping the basket. Tomatoes and heads of cabbage scattered. A beggar woman rushed over and picked them up, before running away. Kara struggled, trying to pull away from the man, but he was unrelenting.

"Let go, I have to-"

"You don't _have_ to do anything, except tell me why you have my coin purse in your hand."

"I'm not a thief, if that's what you're asking."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, you're not?" He yanked her arm up, pushing it into her face. "So these septims are yours?"

"Let go of me!"

Surprisingly, he did, but not before snatching his coins back. She stumbled slightly, dropping her dagger. She glanced at it, before looking back up at him. "Listen, you-" She stopped.

He had retied his own purse to his belt, but now he was holding another one, tossing it up in the air and catching it. There was a grin on his face. Kara's hand went to her belt, but there was nothing there save for a buckle.

She pointed. "How did you-"

"The same way you did, lass." He opened it up and peered inside, shaking the septims. "Well, now I can see why you're filching. Running a little light in the pockets, eh?"

"That's none of your concern. Give me my money!"

He didn't seem to hear her. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. Wealth is my business." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Maybe you'd like a taste?"

Kara glared up at him. She didn't want a taste of anything, wealth or otherwise. She wanted to get her money and go find Eiri, if that even _was_ Eiri. But it had to be! The hair and the eyes were unmistakable, and the gasp…that spoke volumes. To Kara, that sounded an awful lot like recognition. It had to be her. But what was she doing? And why did she run?

Kara put her hands on her hips, looking him square in the eyes. "You're Brynjolf. Am I right?"

He nodded, smirking. "My reputation precedes me."

"Yeah. Let's you and me get one thing straight: I am-"

A shrill scream cut Kara off. She and Brynjolf turned simultaneously. There was the sound of feet pounding over the planks of Riften's walkways, before three people came around the corner, all of them with hands over their heads. A guard followed, bow out, shooting arrows up into the sky.

"What is it?" Brynjolf yelled to the guard. "What's happened?"

"A dragon!"

Kara's heart skipped a beat. _Not again_. But then, sure enough, a shadow swept over them, blocking out the sun as it flew overhead. Kara raised her eyes to the sky as it flew low over the canal. Its scales were brown, its underbelly cream, its wings around fifteen feet wide. Its eyes were gold, blazing like fire. Kara turned in time to see it flap once and descend, right in front of Riften's keep. A handful of guards surrounded it, but it inhaled a great breath and roared, spitting fire. Kara felt the heat across the canal. The guards screamed, falling to their knees, cooking in their armor.

The marketplace was mayhem; wagons kicked over, goods all over the ground, merchants and shoppers alike fleeing in all directions, screaming at the top of their lungs.

Kara stopped a guard running with the rest of them. After seeing what had just happened to his fellows, she didn't blame him. "Give me your bow and arrows."

"_What_?"

She shook him. "Now! There isn't time!"

Brynjolf grabbed her arm as the guard unhooked his quiver with trembling fingers. "Lass, are you out of your mind?"

"Possibly. We'll leave it up for discussion."

The guard threw the quiver at her before sprinting, following the steady stream of people heading for the North Gate. She fastened it on as quickly as she could, before shaking off Brynjolf's hand and running to the well in the middle of the marketplace. Getting a leg up on the edge, she climbed up on top of it just like she had that morning, and nocked an arrow.

She took a deep breath - the screaming faded to the background, noises muffled - before letting it out calmly. She released.

The dragon screamed its fury as the arrow hit its mark. By then, the guards around it were dead, but more of them were rushing from the keep. She'd already nocked another arrow and let it fly; it caught the dragon on the neck. It swung its great head around in her direction, focusing its burning eyes on her. Beating its powerful wings, it took to the sky, flying straight for her.

"Lass, I'd get down from there if I were you!"

"And I'd back up if I were _you_!" she shouted back, following the dragon with her bow.

She got off another shot as it hovered above her, before throwing herself off the well. Flames engulfed the well, the roof and lattice walls exploding into charred splinters. She covered her face with her arms until she felt wind blowing her hair back; looking up, she saw the dragon in the air again. Shakily, she climbed back to her feet. The dragon landed on the roof of the Bee and Barb, its claws scraping the wood; pieces rained down on Brynjolf, who had his back pressed to the tavern's wall.

The dragon focused on Kara, as she stepped over the remnants of the well, facing the inn. She reached back for another arrow, but paused when the dragon spoke.

"_Dovahkiin_," it said, its voice a deep rumble, like a rockslide. Its tone was mocking. "_Meyz, kril ronaan_."

_Ugh, this again._ "What? I can't understand you!"

Kara could hear Brynjolf's startled exclamation from across the square, but she didn't lower her gaze.

"_Mal mey_," it growled. "_Dir vodahmin_!"

"Nope, still nothing!"

It spit a fireball at her, forcing her to duck and roll to the right. _That_ she understood loud and clear. When she got back to her feet, she glared. "Fuck you!"

The dragon launched into the air right as she nocked another arrow. She fired and missed, snatching a new arrow just as quickly. That one hit just behind the dragon's head; it bellowed, the sound like thunder, before falling, crashing into the wall surrounding the keep. Stones flew, breaking, as it landed with a mighty thud on the steps. There was a brief shocked silence. Dust hung in the air.

Kara ran, leaping over the rubble, until she was directly in front of it. The air smelled of sulfur and the raw metallic scent of blood. Smoke poured from the dragon's open mouth, its eyes half-unseeing. She could see her reflection in the orbs, watching as she pulled forth three arrows and nocked them simultaneously.

"_Dovahkiin_," it grumbled, stirring slightly. "_Alduin fen meyz_…"

Kara pulled the string back to her cheek. Her bow arm was steady, unflinching. She released.

The dragon closed its eyes, heaving a great breath of hot wind that caught, carrying upward and around her, swirling. She closed her eyes as well, her hair whirling around her face, as a great warmth filled her and tingles raced all over her skin, like the prickling of nettles. As quickly as it came, it ended, and when she opened her eyes, there was the bare bones of a skeleton, a corpse.

Kara let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She dropped the borrowed bow to the ground, before unbuckling the quiver, fingers fumbling. From behind her, there were hushed voices growing louder every second. She half-turned to see guards gaping at her, helmets off, weapons lowered, mouths hanging open. Above them on the highest stair, right outside the door to Mistveil Keep, was the Jarl and her family, her housecarl standing in front of them. Everyone was staring.

Kara didn't know what else to do, so she just saluted. "My lady."

The Jarl shook her head. "You…you just…"

"Yeah. Uh…" Kara scratched the back of her neck, looking out over Riften. The stones of the well were blackened and smoking, the Bee and Barb was missing a chunk of roof, and the wall beside her had crumbled. Little fires burned all over the square, crates overturned and barrels leaking. "Whoops."

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, there was a great _phoom_ - one of the leaking barrels had erupted in flames, setting off a small explosion. Only too late did Kara notice the Black-Briar logo painted on the side of it, the fire already melting it off. _Shit._ Several guards immediately hurried over to extinguish the flames.

Doors and windows opened all over Riften, the residents peeking out to make sure it was safe. The door to the orphanage beside the square opened and kids spilled out, talking excitedly, gazing at her with reverence. More and more people surfaced, clambering over bridges to stand around the square. She could hear the whispers already, catching the word "Dragonborn." Her face heated.

Before Kara could cut and run, someone started clapping. Then someone else. People began clapping all over the square, and that escalated into shouting. Suddenly everyone was cheering and applauding her. Slowly, she started to smile. Bending at the waist, she bowed as elegantly as she knew how. When she straightened, the Jarl was at her side, her housecarl lurking behind her.

"I am Laila Law-Giver, Jarl of Riften. This city…we are in your debt." Kara opened her mouth to speak, but Jarl Laila went on. "Tell me your name, traveler."

She thought fast, unwilling to give any of them her real name. "Kara…Quick-Draw."

"An apt name, for such a well-learned archer. From where do you hail, Kara?"

"Bruma."

The Jarl raised an eyebrow. "You are a long way from home. What brings you to Skyrim in these troubled times?"

"Family." The girl's face from earlier came back to Kara, and she clenched her fists. That dragon had really ruined it for her; who knew if she would find Eiri now?

"Ah, yes, you _do_ have the Nord look about you." The Jarl tipped Kara's chin up with two fingers, inspecting her face. Kara resisted the urge to smack her hand away. "Although…" She let that sentence hang, before shaking her head. "It is no matter. Name your boon, Kara Quick-Draw, for we all owe you our lives today."

Kara blinked. "A boon?"

"Yes. What would you have of Laila Law-Giver?"

"I…" Suddenly, her mind went blank. What could she ask for that these people would possibly give her? A lifetime supply of sweets seemed nice, but then again, so did a lifetime supply of arrows. _I don't know, I don't know_. "Um, can I get back to you on that?"

Jarl Laila frowned slightly. "I mislike being indebted to others."

"I know, but really, asking me to think of something on the spot? Way unfair and impossible. So how about you just owe me one?"

Jarl Laila sighed. "Yes, I suppose that will have to do. Fine! Return to me within a month, and name your prize. If you do not, you shall receive nothing. Is that understood?"

_Well, that seems to defeat the point._ The Jarl, however, seemed to be at her most generous, so Kara said yes.

The Jarl nodded curtly. "Then I name you Kara Dragonsbane, hero of Riften!" She grabbed Kara's hand, thrusting it into the air. The people cheered ever louder, and Kara flushed. _Great, another title. They throw those around like septims at a cathouse._

When the people quieted, it occurred to her they were waiting for a speech. "Um…thank you, Riften!" There were some scattered claps, and she cleared her throat. "Uh." She saw a familiar face in the crowd, green eyes unreadable as they gazed up at her. Suddenly, she had an idea.

"To the Bee and Barb to celebrate! Food and drink is on my best friend Brynjolf!"

The crowd went wild. The Nord man blanched, even as people around him thanked him and began filtering towards the tavern in groups, talking excitedly and occasionally shouting, "Dragonsbane!" Kara grinned as she hopped down the broken steps, sincerely hoping Keerava had enough chairs, because the afternoon was about to get wild.

The Jarl and her entourage had already gone back inside Mistveil Keep by the time Kara sauntered over to the Bee and Barb. The doors were open, spilling forth people, and as soon as they caught sight of her, a great cry went up. She smiled and headed inside, winding her way through the patrons already swiftly on their way to drunk.

Keerava was at the bar, scrambling to serve everyone when Kara approached. The moment she laid eyes on her, she scowled. "You, you're nothing but trouble. Get out of here!"

"Ah, come on, Keerava, it was all in good fun. Besides, some business could do you good, don't you think?" Kara pulled her knapsack off and tossed it behind the counter. "Keep an eye on that for me, will you?"

"I only have two eyes, girl, and they're busy. If you really wanted to help me, you could grab an apron and fend off the horde with Talen-Jei."

"_Ehhh_, as appealing as that sounds, I think I'll pass." She let the crowd swallow her, smirking at a scantily-clad bard standing on a table surrounded by men and women alike requesting songs in half-slurs. The moment she began singing _The Dragonborn Comes_, however, Kara's smirk vanished, and she slunk away.

She was almost out the door when a hand grabbed her by the back of the neck. She stiffened, bristling once she heard the familiar brogue in her ear. "You and I need to talk."

Kara jerked out of his grasp, spinning around. "Give me my money, and we will."

Brynjolf laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, no, no, no. I'm keeping it. In fact, I think the festivities might just be on _you_."

"There's hardly enough in there for that."

"Well, there's enough to contribute. Now, if our newest hero isn't busy, we need to talk."

"We _are_ talking."

"Somewhere more private."

"I have a room upstairs-"

"No, if we do this, we're doing it on my turf. Get it?"

Kara stared at him a moment, folding her arms over her chest. "Who are you?"

"No one of importance. Now, come along, _hero_." He grabbed her by the elbow, steering her out of the inn.

"Hey!" She yanked away from him when they were outside. Her arm was starting to ache from all the people pushing her around. With a scowl, she pulled herself up to sit facing him on the railing overlooking the canal. She folded her arms over her chest. "Well, what do you want?"

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but I know what I saw and heard. You're not what you seem, lass."

"Very astute of you," Kara remarked, rolling her eyes.

"I don't know why you're here, but I'd like to help you. Meet me by the Shrine of Talos at midnight, and we'll talk. It isn't safe to do anything in daylight."

"You got some midnight prayers in mind?"

He grinned. "Something like that. You'll be there?"

"Sure, if I can get away from all of my adoring fans." She thought for a second, before pointing at him. "But if you cross me…"

He held his hands up. "I'm not about to try anything with the girl who just killed a dragon in the middle of Riften, I swear. I just want to talk."

The rational voices in her head were screeching, fighting to be heard. _This is crazy. You shouldn't do it. At midnight? Come on, he's playing you. Could be an assassin, or an ambush. I'm telling you, it's not smart._ One thought was quieter than the others, but she heard it all the same.

_But what if he can help you find Eiri?_

Kara nodded, looking him in the eyes. "Fine. I'll be there. But only because I have some questions of my own."

"Fair enough. Now, before I miss my only chance to do this…" He reached out one hand and pushed her shoulder, hard.

Her arms windmilled for a second, before she toppled backwards. She shrieked on the way down, air making her eyes water. She only had time to suck in a quick breath before she hit the water and went under. Kicking up, she burst through the surface with a sputtering gasp, before shoving her wet hair out of her eyes. She could hear Brynjolf laughing as he walked away.

"You bastard!"

* * *

**The dragon language is probably all wrong, but I just went with what I picked up via the Elder Scrolls wiki (dubious, I know). You already know Dovahkiin (or you _should_ know, if you're reading this story) but the others are below, in order of appearance:**

**_Come, brave archer. _**

**_Little fool. Die forgotten/unremembered._**

**_Alduin will come..._**


	3. Of All The Graveyards In All The World

Nobody batted an eyelash when Kara walked into the crowded Bee and Barb, soaked from head to toe. In fact, nobody seemed to notice her at all, too busy pushing tables together for people to dance on. Grateful, she hurried up to her room to change into her only other set of clothes: a cream-colored off-the-shoulder tunic, a wool bodice, and another pair of brown pants. There was nothing she could do about her hair except rub it dry with her blanket, before hanging that up to dry with her sopping clothes. Clothes clinging to her damp skin, boots still drenched, she had no choice but to walk back downstairs barefoot.

The first people who noticed her were a couple standing beside the stairs. The man was Imperial, by the looks of him, short and weedy with thin lips and sandy hair that fell below his ears. Beside him was a tall Nord woman with golden hair and a wide stripe of blue warpaint covering the left side of her face. She had a massive axe strapped to her back, and instantly at the foot of the stairs, Kara halted.

The Nord woman smiled kindly at her. "My, what happened to you? Is it raining outside?"

Kara frowned. "No, I uh…took an unfortunate tumble into the canal." _Courtesy of Brynjolf, the bastard._

The woman wrinkled her nose. "That explains the smell." Still, she laughed good-naturedly. "I'm Mjoll. They call me the Lioness. This is my friend, Aerin."

"Wait," Aerin said, eyes widening. "You're the woman from earlier! Kara Dragonsbane!"

Kara tried not to roll her eyes, reminding herself she needed to talk to them both. "Uh, yeah, well-met, you two. I've actually been looking for you!"

They exchanged an awed look.

"Us?" Aerin asked. "But why?"

A blush suddenly tinted Mjoll's cheeks. "I've actually been looking for you as well. I saw you kill that dragon. It was…unlike anything I've ever seen."

Kara waved her hand impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, the dragon, old news. Look, Keerava told me you talked to that girl who came through her recently." Kara held a hand up several inches below the top of her head. "She's about yea high, blonde hair, blue eyes. About fifteen or sixteen."

Mjoll nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, the nice young girl from Ivarstead."

"Ivarstead?"

"Yes, she said that's where she was from. She'd walked the entire way here in the pouring rain, poor girl. We only wanted to offer her some company and see if she needed any help."

_Ivarstead, huh?_ "What else did she say?"

They exchanged another look.

"Well," Aerin said, looking uncomfortable. "She asked us about the Thieves Guild. Said she was looking for Delvin Mallory."

Mjoll growled in the back of her throat. "Damn him, _and_ the Thieves Guild. They're what's wrong with this city; them and Maven Black-Briar. We warned her away, didn't we, Aerin?"

He nodded. "Told her to stay away, to go back home to her family."

Kara stared at a place on the wall behind them, suddenly cold. "And what did she say?"

"She got kind of quiet, and said she couldn't. She sounded sad." Mjoll's expression softened. "I didn't want to pry, but I got the feeling she had no family to go back to."

_That doesn't make any sense_. Looking up, Kara nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Mjoll watched her for a second, her eyes appraising. "Are you going to take her home?"

"If everything goes according to plan, yeah."

"Good. No child should be in Riften, no matter what they're running from. You'll take care of her, right?"

_I always have._ Kara thanked them both before wandering through the crowd. She no longer heard the laughter or music, lost in her head. _Dammit, Eiri. Why the Thieves Guild? What are you up to?_

If she tried really hard, Kara could remember the last time she'd seen Eiri. It was three years before; Kara had been sixteen, Eiri twelve. They'd been having a snowball fight running through the streets of Bruma. If she closed her eyes, it was like she was still there: the cold wet bite through her damp fur gloves; Eiri's ceaseless giggling, her nose and cheeks red from the cold; the bells of the Great Chapel of Talos ringing above them, around them. It had been a magical afternoon, until they ran back to Kara's aunt and uncle's house to find Kara's father sitting at the table, smiling at her, like it hadn't been two years since she'd seen him last.

_He was always like that,_ Kara remembered. _There when I didn't want him, gone when I needed him._

Suddenly tired and more than slightly overwhelmed, Kara made her way back towards Keerava. _I need sugar._ The Argonian woman was too busy yelling at two men brawling to notice as she swiped a sweetroll from the bar, biting into it morosely, and wandering back upstairs.

She ate her sweetroll at the open window, staring out at the wreckage of the marketplace. She'd only been there one day and already there needed to be massive construction done on the city. She watched as guards and laborers both dismantled the dragon bones, dragging them off to Talos-knows-where. It took ten men to lift the skull, and even they had difficulty.

Licking the frosting off her fingers, Kara thought of all the names swirling around in her head, all the people she'd spoken to that day. The Thieves Guild and Maven Black-Briar were the common theme, but where did Eiri fit in? She'd always been a sweet girl, more careful and cautious where Kara was wild and rambunctious. She was afraid of bugs, large animals, and thunderstorms; how was it that, at the tender age of fifteen, she could up and leave, running away not only to a country she'd never been before, but a city full of thugs? Unless that was the intent; with the new mention of Delvin Mallory - another connection to the Guild - it certainly seemed that way.

_But why, why, why?_

_I'll ask Brynjolf tonight_, she decided, crawling onto the bed, laying on it without the blanket, still fully clothed. _Somebody knows…_

* * *

After sleeping restlessly throughout the afternoon and evening, Kara rose at eleven that night to an uneasy feeling. The air pouring in her window felt too stale, the city too quiet. Unable to shake it, she opted to dress in the leather armor she'd stashed beneath her bed, strapping her bow and quiver to her back. _Better safe than sorry._

As quietly as she could, she tiptoed down the stairs to the common area of the Bee and Barb. Keerava wasn't behind the bar, and it was empty. The place stank of mead and sweat, the candles burning down to stubs of melted wax on tables. Kara made a note to maybe clean up, to thank Keerava, if she wasn't busy and there were no dragons later, something she had no way of predicting. Still, she felt slightly better as she stole out into the night.

_Shrine of Talos. That's by the graveyard._ Setting off, she crossed one of the bridges over the canal, only to stumble upon a familiar figure shaking a finger in a Redguard's face.

"…next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it."

The Redguard man looked stricken as Kara approached. "_What_? Are you telling me you robbed it? Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

Sapphire folded her arms over her chest. Her back was to Kara. "Look, Shadr, last warning: pay up or else. All I care about is the gold. Everything else is your problem."

"I don't mean to interrupt," Kara drawled, standing between the two of them. "But do either of you know where the Shrine of Talos is? See, I'm new in town and-"

"Gods," Shadr remarked, gaping. "You're that woman who killed the dragon."

"_You_," Sapphire snarled, unfolding her arms and clenching her fists. "I thought I told you to keep your nose out of my business."

"Yeah, and I thought I made it clear that I'm not scared of you." Kara glanced at the man beside them. "Shadr, is it?"

He nodded.

"Why don't you go ahead and go home?"

"But-"

"I wasn't asking." Kara paused. "Okay, technically I was, but I didn't mean it to sound that way. Look, just get out of here, okay? Damn, there I go asking again. Let me try again." She cleared her throat. "Go home, Shadr. How was that?"

"Um. Forceful?"

"Good. Now _go home_!"

He nodded and scurried away.

Sapphire watched him go before laughing mirthlessly and shaking her head. "What _is_ it with you? Who gave you the right to just come in here and insert yourself in everyone's business?"

_Well, definitely not Maul._ "I'm not inserting myself into anything, that I know of. I just wanted to ask you some questions."

"What? No." Sapphire looked around, almost nervously.

Kara grabbed her arm. "Yes, actually. You were seen talking to a young girl several days ago. Blonde hair, blue eyes, about fifteen. You remember?"

"No. Let go of me." Sapphire jerked away, but Kara dug her fingers in.

"Bullshit! What did you say to her?"

"What do you care? Who is she?"

"Someone I care about very much, and if I find out that she's been hurt because of you, I will not hesitate to kill you." Kara lowered her voice conspiratorially; Sapphire had to lean in to hear her. "You saw what I did to a dragon. Just imagine what I could do to you."

"All right, all right, ease up! I heard her tell those idiots Mjoll and Aerin that she was looking for Delvin Mallory. I know him, told her I could arrange a meeting. I told her to meet me down by the Ratway in the middle of the night, that I'd take her to him."

"What's the Ratway?"

"Sewers, below the city. It's where all the disreputable people can be found."

"People like you? Like Mallory?" Sapphire nodded. "Who is he, anyway?"

"He's…an accomplice of mine. Influential. Knows people."

"That tells me absolutely nothing."

"Look, I'd take you down there if I could, but I already got my ass reamed for bringing her."

"Where is she now?"

Sapphire avoided her gaze. "I don't know."

"Liar!"

Kara tried to adjust her grip, but Sapphire pulled free. Before she could throw an arm up, the woman spun and punched her right in the face. Kara went down to one knee, hands up at her face. She didn't need to open her eyes to know Sapphire had gotten away; the sound of retreating footsteps was enough.

Blood was leaking through her fingers when she managed to stand up. She took an experimental breath through her nose, but only ended up inhaling blood. She coughed and spit it out, pinching the bridge of her nose and walking unsteadily to the Shrine of Talos.

She was doubled over, throwing up blood, when Brynjolf arrived.

"Well, it's nice to see you dry again - Gods, lass, what happened to you?" He made sure to avoid the puddle of sweetroll and blood as he hurried over.

She briefly entertained the idea of punching him for pushing her into the canal, but suddenly she heaved again. She stood up straight, wiping her mouth on the back of one bare hand. "A badly planned interrogation of a rather rude woman by the name of Sapphire."

"Ah, yeah, Sapphire can be that way. She has a tongue that would cut a tree in a single stroke."

Kara assumed that was bad, but she didn't care enough to ask. Instead, she tilted her head back slightly so he could see, crossing her eyes to look at her nose. "Does this look broken to you?"

"'Fraid so. Here, let me-"

He grabbed her nose and twisted. It snapped back into place with a pop and a flash of blinding pain. Kara's knees wobbled again, and she bent over, cursing under her breath.

"Ugh," she said, standing once more. "You son of a - you are some kind of-" She couldn't think of anything horrible enough, so she just left it to his imagination.

Brynjolf folded his arms, waiting, looking more amused than anything. "Finished?"

"Fuck you."

"Look, I'll buy you a bottle of mead the next time I'm at the Bee and Barb to make up for it."

"Throw in a honey nut treat, and you got yourself a deal." She gingerly touched her nose, sniffling. "Gah, okay. I think I'm okay now." For the first time since earlier, she got a good look at him. He was no longer wearing the fancier clothes he had been earlier, instead wearing worn leather with lots of buckles and pockets. She couldn't help admiring that much storage space, before realizing he was talking.

"…you might want to visit the Temple of Mara just in case. There's a healer there who can fix you up better than me."

She shook her head, wiping some of the leftover blood off her face. "Nah, I'll pass. Temples and I don't mix, not since I got caught with my pants down in the Undercroft back in Bruma."

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. "Care to favor me with the story?"

"Not really. Didn't we come here to discuss things?"

"'Course. You've got a sharp eye, lass." She snorted, wincing and feeling her nose again, but he went on. "It's a good quality in a woman."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get to the point, shall we?" She jabbed a finger in his direction. "I need information, and you're going to give it to me."

He leaned against the statue of Talos, like he had all the time in the world. "Fair enough. When you tell me how it is that you can face a dragon, and still be alive."

"Lots of practice?"

"Unless you're over hundreds of years old, that doesn't seem likely. But there has been some interesting rumors of late…"

"Oh? Concerning what?"

"The Dragonborn."

_There's that word again_. "Oh yeah, I heard something about that. Legendary fighter or something like that. Wonder who it could be."

Brynjolf's green eyes glinted in the darkness. "I wonder. You, perhaps?"

"_Me_?" Kara laughed, but it sounded forced, even to her ears. "That's crazy."

Brynjolf straightened, crossing the distance between them. "I'll tell you what's crazy, lass. Watching a girl looking like she's barely old enough to be out on her own standing on top of a well in the middle of a city and yelling taunts up at a dragon, and then killing it moments later."

"For your information, I'm nearly twenty. Besides, anyone can kill a dragon. It's not difficult, especially with good ol' Crow's-Eye." She reached back and patted her bow lovingly.

"But not everyone can do what you did afterwards."

"Oh, right. _That_."

It was like Whiterun all over again. She had shot the dragon out of the sky, and just when she thought her problems were over and she could leave, it started glowing and the wind picked up, just like earlier, and then suddenly something was in her, something golden and warm, twisting around the base of her spine, waiting for her to breathe life into it.

She waved her hand. "That was nothing."

"You took its _soul_."

"So? What's the big deal?"

Brynjolf made a _tch_ noise in the back of his throat. "Well, young girl who seems to be the Dragonborn aside, why is this so-called Dragonborn in Riften?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you about. I'm looking for a girl. She would be new to Riften, from Ivarstead. Young, younger than me, with blonde hair-"

"And blue eyes. Yes, I know."

Kara frowned. "How?"

"She was in the marketplace today."

"Yes! I saw her, and then she ran. Look, I need to find her. I've been talking to people, and apparently she was looking for Delvin Mallory."

"She found him. He's in the Ragged Flagon."

Kara blinked. "The what, now?"

"It's a tavern down in the Ratway. What do you want with her?"

"She's family. I-"

"Family, huh? She never mentioned you."

Kara shook her head, puzzled. "Wait, you talked to her?"

"Well, of course! Why do you think she was in the marketplace today? She was running a job with me."

Kara's world slowed on its axis. _Running. A. Job._ No, that couldn't be right. Eiri was a sweet little girl, and she was in Riften running from something horrible, hoping this Delvin Mallory could help her. It wasn't that - she couldn't be - _no._

Yet, when she looked up at Brynjolf's face, she knew it was true.

She grabbed him by the straps across his chest, shaking him. "You turned her into a _thief_? You rotten, no-good-"

Brynjolf laughed, grabbing her fingers and uncurling them easily. "Steady on, lass. Why are you so upset about this? If I recall correctly, you're a thief as well."

"No, I'm not."

He looked her up and down so intently that she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. "All evidence to the contrary. Look - Kara - if you'd like, you can come down and see her."

Kara's eyes widened hopefully. "You have her?"

"We don't _have_ her, lass; we're not kidnappers. She's staying with us."

"Take me to her."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. She's the only reason I'm even in Skyrim. I need to see her."

"Are you sure you wouldn't-"

"_Now_, Brynjolf."

He paused, before nodding. "All right. I can't take you to her, but I can tell you where to go."

"Why can't you?"

"I'll tell you everything once you get there. Remember: Ragged Flagon."

He quickly told her where the entrance was, and she set off immediately, without even saying goodbye. When she found the door, she only briefly hesitated, before shoving it open. Darkness and must enveloped her, as she squashed down her panic.

_Welcome to the Ratway._


	4. An Offer You Can't Refuse

**Thanks for the reads, follows, and favorites! You guys are awesome :) This one and some of the ones that follow are going to be longer. Just a heads up!**

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Every moment that Kara was in the Ratway was another moment full of panic. She disliked being indoors, much less underground, and the dank stench of cold stone and unwashed beggars made it even harder to breathe. Keeping her bow close and her steps light, she managed to descend through the filth to a place where fires burned and torches were lit. Even then, each shadow that danced in her peripheral vision made her jump, in time for her to spin and shoot arrows at the walls.

_Breathe,_ she told herself, _This is nothing. You've got this._

But she didn't feel so confident, as every step took her further into the bowels of the earth. It was more than a childhood fear of enclosed places, but a memory of sunless skies, of feeling lost forever, with no tether to the world outside.

Taking shallow breaths through her mouth, she killed a few thugs; got turned around twice; and had to stop and sit down, light-headed. She finally came upon a door rather than a rusty gate, and when she opened it, she found a small underground lake, and beyond it, a well-lit sitting area with several tables and a bar. She hung back in the shadows, watching. There was a sign out front; she couldn't see it from where she stood in an alcove, but she would guess it read 'The Ragged Flagon'. As she crept closer, she could see there were people over there, talking. Someone laughed.

She approached hesitantly over the makeshift wooden bridge, not putting her bow away just yet. It took them a moment to notice her; the first one to catch a glimpse of her was a broad man dressed all in leather, fair hair pulled up. He stood immediately, reaching for the axe hanging heavy on his belt.

"You have five seconds to state your business down here, stranger, before I cleave your head in half like a melon."

Kara held her bow up. "Whoa, whoa, _whoa_. Ungoverned hostility!"

"You think?"

_Wait a minute._ Kara narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't be related to Maul by any chance, would you? I'm sensing this uncanny resemblance. I think it's in the memorable way you both threaten me."

He grinned wolfishly. "I'm his brother, Dirge. I'm the bouncer here for Vekel."

"I can believe that. And can I just say _wow_, your facial hair is impressive. Really. How long did it take you to grow those chops? And if you're related, how come Maul's hair is so much darker than yours?"

His grin faded. "Cute. I'm starting to think your five seconds are up."

"Okay, hang on, let's not get ahead of ourselves." Slowly, knowing it probably wasn't the best idea, Kara put her bow back on, hoping it would work as a sign of good faith. Dirge wasn't fazed. "Look, Brynjolf told me to come down here."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Yeah? And why's that?"

"Because she's looking for me." There was the sound of a chair being pushed back, the wood scraping on the stone floor.

Kara looked past Dirge, unable to help the way her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Eiri stood there, her hair still braided like it had been in the marketplace. She was wearing a pair of pants and a stained blue robe over them, the hood pulled down to expose her thin face. She looked so different since the last time Kara had seen her. She was taller, and she no longer had the slight body of a girl, but the curves of a woman. Her blue eyes weren't as bright as they used to be; they held a certain weariness now, and Kara couldn't blame her. _You've come a long way, child. But why?_

"Eiri, I…" Kara shook her head. "I don't know what to say."

"Time does that to people." Eiri suddenly smiled, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "Do you have a hug for me, at least?"

Kara smiled, crossing the distance between them and hugging Eiri fiercely. Eiri laughed, her breath warm against Kara's shoulder. When they parted, Kara shook her slightly.

"You little fool! What are you doing here? What's this I hear about you being a thief?"

"Just earning my keep," Eiri said, blushing prettily. "They let me stay here, but I don't want to take advantage of them, so I do a little fishing every now and again, maybe a numbers job when they need me to."

Kara shook her head._ I can't believe I'm hearing this._ "But why are you here, in Skyrim? Why did you run away? There's so much I need to know."

"You're not the only one, curls."

Kara turned to the man seated at the table beside them. His head was shaved, but he had a sandy goatee. He was leaning back in his chair, watching the two of them with a slightly amused expression on his face.

Kara cocked an eyebrow. "What, is that supposed to be a clever nickname?"

"Until you give me your real name."

"How about we trade?"

"Fair enough." He stood up, bowing exaggeratedly. "Delvin Mallory, at your service."

"Kara Quick-Draw. Also known as Dragonsbane, apparently." Eiri frowned at that, but didn't ask.

"Ah, right, I heard about you. How do you know our girlie here?"

"Excellent question, Delvin." Brynjolf stepped up beside them, arms folded over his chest. She didn't know where he'd come from, only that she was surprisingly grateful to see him. "But I think that can wait. Why don't you sit down, lass? You look about ready to collapse."

"Yes," Eiri chimed in. "Please, sit down. And tell me what happened to your face!"

"Oh, that. Recent development." She held a hand up to her nose, poking and prodding gently. "Is it that bad?"

"You have dried blood all over your face!"

Delvin snickered as Eiri and Brynjolf steered her to an empty table, shoving bottles and unwashed plates aside. It was then that Kara noticed the other people there, hanging back in the shadows, watching. Besides the man behind the bar - Vekel, she was willing to guess -there were three others. She couldn't see their faces, but she felt their eyes all the same. She sank into a chair slowly, hunching her shoulders. _They really know how to make a girl feel welcome. Eiri, what have you got yourself into?_

Eiri sat down next to her, dragging a chair over and tilting Kara's head back. Her hands glowed with a golden light, before she placed them against Kara's cheeks. Her fingers were cool to the touch. Kara closed her eyes against the light, but she could feel the tingling, making her skin itch. Just when her eyes started to water, Eiri took her hands away.

Kara felt her nose. It was numb. "Better?"

"Much," Brynjolf said, from his place across the table. He handed Eiri a damp washcloth, and she washed the blood off Kara's face.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Your skills have grown."

Eiri smiled teasingly. "Yours haven't. What'd you do this time? Please tell me you didn't fall down some stairs."

Brynjolf looked like he wanted to laugh, but he stayed quiet. Kara sighed. "No, not this time. It was a…friendly dispute."

"Meaning you got in over your head and/or put your foot in your mouth and someone punched you?"

There were some titters from the people in the shadows, and Kara scowled. "Yeah, that sounds about right." Eiri started to get up, to take the washcloth to Vekel, but Kara grabbed her wrist. Slowly, she sat back down. "Just…stay. We need to talk."

Eiri took a deep breath, before nodding. "Okay. First, how did you _find_ me?"

Kara laughed. "You're kidding, right? You're not exactly a master of stealth. I got to Whiterun and asked the carriage driver if he'd seen you. He said he took you as far as Ivarstead because there was a nasty storm and he couldn't go on any further."

"I needed to get to Riften as soon as possible, so I borrowed a horse from some people in Ivarstead. It got spooked by some thunder about halfway there, though, and it threw me. I walked the rest of the way. As far as everything else…" Eiri sighed. "I don't even know where to start."

"How about where you ran away? Because I'd like to hear about that."

Eiri shook her head. "But that's not the beginning. It started back when you were in..." She trailed off, glancing around the table. "When you were in the Imperial City."

Kara huffed out a breath. "That's one way to put it." Brynjolf glanced at her questioningly, but he didn't say anything.

Eiri went on. "I'm sure Father told you I was attending the Mage's College in Bruma."

"Yes. When I got to Bruma, your parents were losing their minds. They said you had vanished in the night, leaving a note saying you were going to Skyrim and for them not to worry. Of course, not worrying would be too easy, so I promised I'd go after you."

Eiri fiddled with the washcloth, pulling at strings on the ragged edges. She nodded, shifting guiltily in her seat. "And I do feel bad for that, but I _had_ to."

"Why?"

"He didn't tell you anything else?"

Kara thought back to her homecoming in Bruma. Her aunt had been absolutely beside herself, weeping and unintelligible. Her uncle, on the other hand, had calmly explained what happened, before asking her to find Eiri. He had been ashen and shaky, very much unlike his usual vigor, but she didn't expect him to be otherwise when his only child had run from home.

"Was there something else to tell?"

"Yes, he's… Kara, he's dying."

Kara felt the breath evaporate in her lungs. "_What_?"

"It all started after you…left. We'd never had much money ever since Father hurt his back in the fall, you know that, and Mother couldn't make ends meet selling herbs. I tried to help, but there wasn't much I could do. Debt collectors came calling and they used all the money they'd saved for me to pay to keep the house. And you know, despite it all, I _understood_. Even if we fell behind again, for a time, we were safe, we had our home. I didn't mind forsaking my future for my parents to keep themselves off the streets."

Eiri had always been like that, Kara remembered. Even when they were children, she was always willing to sacrifice her own happiness for the well-being of others. It used to annoy Kara endlessly, especially as they got older, and she remembered a fight they'd had. "You're soft," she'd said, sneering at the younger girl. "You let everyone walk all over you, and for what? So _they_ can be happy? Well, what about _you_?" Eiri hadn't spoken to her for days. Despite that, Kara was impressed; she'd finally shown some backbone. Hearing about her giving up her future was nothing new, and yet…

"I feel like there's a 'but' here."

Eiri nodded. "Suddenly, as if by magick, we started getting money. It was mostly coin Father would bring home, and Mother was scared immediately, thinking he'd…" She eyed Kara. "Well, you know."

"Resorted to my father's line of work," Kara said, nodding. "Yes, I can imagine why that would scare her."

"Yes. She asked Father about it, and he said not to worry, that soon all our troubles would vanish."

Kara snorted. She'd heard that before from her own father, many times. The last time in particular stood out. Idly, Kara ran a hand over her bracer, beneath which was the mark branded into her arm. _We all know how well that went._

"And did they?"

"For a time. They sent me off to the Mage's College, and it was the happiest day of my life. Those were the good days. I was learning so much and making friends, and at the end of each week, I'd sleep at home, to visit. Over time, that was when I noticed it."

"What?"

"How sickly he'd become. After the fall, he was frailer, but still stubborn as a mule - you remember that time he tried to ride all the way to Skingrad?" Kara nodded. "Though it pained him, he refused to let his back stand in the way. He did lots of odd jobs down at the stable, and even fixed up a house or two, though when he came home, he'd be stiff as stone. Mother would have to rub his back and legs with poultices, just to get him to sleep. That was normal. But then he started sweating, and he would sleep for days. I took a leave from the College to take care of him, and I was horrified. He could barely keep food down, and he was as pale and fragile as a man twice his age. It was like he was just wasting away."

So, he hadn't just been worried about Eiri. He was sick, but…dying? "But the College. The Chapel. Surely they could have helped."

Eiri shook her head. "They tried, but it was nothing they'd ever seen before. His body was simply failing him, his life force draining. I resolved to help him in any way I could. I hurried through my lessons during the day and spent each night poring over the tomes in the library, searching for anything that mentioned his symptoms, anything that could be a cure. One night, I was so frustrated that I knocked an entire shelf over and sat there, crying." Kara tried to picture that much brute strength from her and failed. "My friend Aridan came looking for me. When I told him everything, he said he might be able to help."

"How?"

"Well, Aridan is a Dunmer, you see, and…well, it's not exactly public information, but his family worships the Daedra."

Kara choked. "I'm sorry, did you just say your best friend worships _evil_?"

"They aren't all evil!" Eiri protested, her voice shrill. "He explained them all to me, showing me some books of his that he'd smuggled in and kept hidden. The primary Prince he and his family worships is Azura, and she's known as the Mother of Roses. There's even Meridia, as well, the Prince of-"

Brynjolf laid a hand on Eiri's shoulder. "You're getting a bit off track, here. The Daedra."

She nodded, distracted. "Yes, the Daedra. Anyway, he explained to me that he'd seen something similar happen to a family that used to be close with his when they lived in Vvardenfell. He said each member made a bargain with the Daedric Prince Clavicus Vile. They gained seemingly limitless wealth and power in Morrowind, but one by one, they all died, until their house was no more than history."

Kara could see where this was going. "And Clavicus Vile is the Daedric Prince of…?"

"Wishes and bargains."

"Uh-huh. That's where the money came from."

Eiri nodded sadly. "Father just wanted me to have a future."

"Yeah, well, he did something_ really_ stupid to get that."

Eiri raised her gaze, staring evenly at Kara. "Sometimes fathers do very silly things to ensure their daughters will live a better life than they themselves had."

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard all that before, but we're talking about you. What happened next?"

"I confronted Father, and he begged for my forgiveness. We decided not to tell Mother - why worry her more? - and he made me promise not to try and fix this, that it was his decision, and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

"And you broke that promise. Naturally."

"Naturally. He's my _father_. I couldn't just sit back and watch him die, just so I could join a bunch of snobs at the College and play with spells. So Aridan spoke to his family for me, and we figured out that this is reversible."

"How?"

"With a ritual that will summon Clavicus Vile and break the bargain."

Kara held her hands up. "Oh, no, no, no, _no_. You're not going to summon a Daedric Prince! That's insanity!"

"You're right, I'm not. Because he's already here."

Kara stared at her. "_That's_ why you came to Skyrim?"

"Partly, yes. But I had two problems: I didn't know where his shrine was, and I didn't know how I was going to get all the ingredients to make the spell - and the potion to cure Father - happen."

"So…"

"So I stole an artifact from the College, and hitched a ride here. After inquiring around, I found Delvin Mallory - the best fence in all of Tamriel."

Delvin, who had been standing behind Brynjolf, grinned toothily. "You flatter me, girlie."

Kara looked between the two of them, adding up everything in her head. "So you brought the-"

"Ring. It's a ring."

"Right, you brought the ring here in exchange for their help in locating the shrine or whatever and in getting the ingredients." _But…I know thieves, and I know they don't do anything unless there's something in it for them._ She fixed her eyes on Delvin. "So what did she promise you?"

He made a mock-hurt face. "You wound me, curls! What if I simply wanted to help a damsel in distress?"

"_What did she promise you_?"

"All right, all right, don't get your knickers in a bunch. First, we agreed that I ain't buying that ring until I know it works."

"What does it do?"

"It's called the Ring of Purity. It's an alchemical treasure, making your created potions highly potent and, like the name suggests, very nearly pure." When Kara just stared at her, Eiri rolled her eyes. "It's a priceless artifact."

"Wow. Okay. So, you're going to make the potion for your father first to make sure it works, and then-"

"It's all Delvin's. He'll sell it to the highest bidder, and then once we've dealt with Clavicus Vile…there's a heist."

_Uh-huh. Nothing in this world is free._ "A heist. A heist involving what?"

Eiri opened her mouth to reply, but Delvin swooped in. "We don't want to give away the surprise too early, now do we? Let's not get ahead of ourselves. All of this hinges on whether or not we can…negotiate with Vile."

Everyone fell silent then, the only sound the dripping of water from the roof and Vekel as he unloaded a crate of mead, the bottles clanking against each other quietly. Kara's mind was whirling, thoughts pulling her like strings in different directions; she didn't know which one to follow first.

She had agreed to bring Eiri back. But she knew the girl wouldn't leave, only to go back to her dying father. And the idea of Uncle Harald dying made Kara's throat ache, so that option was off the table. It seemed that the only road before her was to help Eiri in her hare-brained scheme, to save her father and get her back to Bruma. _But Daedric Princes? A heist? This was not what I signed up for, and I swore I was done with that life…_

But if it was the only thing to get Eiri home and keep her family safe, then what choice did she have?

She leaned forward. "Okay, I want in."

Delvin looked surprised, but the ghost of a smile hovered around Brynjolf's lips. He grabbed a nearby bottle of mead, popping the cork and taking a long, slow pull.

Eiri, meanwhile, launched herself up from her seat. "Oh, _truly_? Kara, you have no idea - that makes me so-" She threw her arms around Kara's neck, squeezing tightly.

"Yes," Kara managed, eyes watering. "And you're strangling me."

"Oh, sorry!" Eiri released her, stepping back. "Are you all right? I didn't hurt you, did I? How's your nose? Because I could-"

"Whoa, Eiri. Calm down. Take a breath." Kara coughed, taking her own advice, though the longer she spent underground, the harder it was becoming. She glanced over at the younger girl as she resumed sitting beside them at the table, her eyes shining like they used to.

"What?" Eiri asked, noticing Kara's stare.

"Did you really think I'd say no?"

Eiri bit her lip, a shadow passing over her face. "Well. If I'm being honest, I wasn't sure. I mean, after everything… You _just_-"

Kara grabbed her arm quickly, digging her nails in. "Ehh, okay, I see your point." When Eiri's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, Kara released her. "But they're my family too. I'm not just going to sit here and let your father die."

"Are you really sure, though? I mean-"

"I'm doing it and that's final." She glanced around the table. "And if anyone has a problem with that, you'd better speak up now."

Brynjolf and Delvin exchanged a look. Delvin shrugged. "I got no qualms about it. You?"

Brynjolf shook his head. "She's got the skill. May as well. Besides, I've got a very strong feeling that she won't take no for an answer."

Kara grinned. "Damn straight. However, I have some conditions."

They exchanged another look, less enthusiastic this time. Delvin raised his eyebrows. "Well?"

Kara's smile faded. "First of all, when we're done with this and everything has gone according to plan, Eiri and I are leaving for Cyrodiil. We're going back home to Bruma, and that's it. Neither one of us will be joining your guild."

Delvin nodded, smirking. "We're not the Companions here, love. You'll earn a pretty penny for your part in all this, and be on your way."

"All right. As long as we're clear."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah." Kara pointed at Eiri. "She isn't involved."

"_What_?" Eiri exploded out of her seat again, the chair falling backwards as she slammed her palm against the table. "You can't be serious."

"You're just a kid, Eiri, you don't want to get mixed up with people like them-"

Brynjolf set his bottle down. "Whoa there, lass. People like _them_? How about people like us? If I remember correctly, you pickpocketed me first."

Delvin's head swung back and forth between the two of them. "What - she got the jump on _you_? How is she not in the guild already?"

"Didn't you hear? She's not one of us."

"That's right," Kara said, glowering. "And neither is she."

Eiri was livid. "Kara, are you out of your mind? My father is _dying_. I need to do this."

"I'm fully aware of that, but in no way are you going to be stealing or killing anything. You leave that to us."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Eiri shouted. "Sit here and wait while you get yourselves captured or killed?"

"Yep, sounds about right. You could take up knitting. I hear that's very relaxing."

Brynjolf choked on a mouthful of mead, and Delvin ran a hand over his jaw, hiding his smile.

Eiri stamped her foot. "No! You can't just come in here and try to boss me around."

"I wouldn't put money on that, Eiri."

"Gods above, if I wasn't a healer, I'd break your nose again right now! I'm not a child anymore, Kara. I can make these sorts of decisions for myself."

"Obviously you can't, since you sought the Thieves Guild for help. Honestly, what were you _thinking_?"

Eiri's blue eyes narrowed. "What was I thinking? I was thinking that all my life, the people I've cared about, save for my parents, were thieves. I was thinking that maybe there'd be some familiar ground here. I was thinking maybe that, unlike you, they'd actually be able to help me!"

"I was gone; otherwise, I would have!"

"Exactly. You were gone." Eiri's tone was bitter, her eyes on the ground. She'd ripped the rag in her hand, her hands still clenched around it.

Kara stared at her. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. You're the last person who should be giving me advice." Eiri threw the rag down on the table, glancing at Brynjolf and Delvin. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen," she said stiffly. "I'll be going to bed now. Good night."

They mumbled farewells, before she flounced away down the corridor past the bar. A door slammed within. Kara stared at the dishrag, still smeared with her own blood, before she shoved back her own chair and stood. She placed a palm against her chest, wavering slightly on her feet.

"Lass, are you all right?"

"I need to get out of here."

Brynjolf nodded, handing his bottle of mead to Delvin. "Come on."

He walked her back through the tunnels, until they were within sight of the door leading out to the canal. She strode ahead of him, shoving it open so hard that it slammed against the opposite wall. She walked several feet, past the boat anchored there, grabbing onto one of the poles rising up from the water. She stared down, heaving in breaths of the misty air.

"Better?" Brynjolf asked, stepping up beside her.

"Depends. Are you going to push me in again?"

"Not this time." When Kara narrowed her eyes at him, he raised a hand, his expression solemn. "On my honor, lass. You'll not be taking a dip tonight on my account."

Kara snorted. "What do you know about honor?"

"You'd be surprised. Now, would you care to enlighten me about what's going on here?"

Kara scowled. "Eiri's an idiot, that's what's going on. I just wish she would _listen_ to me. This is dangerous shit she wants to do, and I just…" _I've only ever wanted to protect her._

Brynjolf took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Who is she?"

Kara took a deep breath. Talking made her feel better, clearing her head. "She's my cousin. I grew up with her in Cyrodiil. My mother was a traveling trader between Bruma and the Imperial City, so whenever we were in Bruma, we would stay with Eiri and her family. She was - _is_ - my best friend. She's like the little sister I never had."

"So naturally, when you heard she'd run away…"

"I promised I'd go after her. This entire time, I thought she was dead, or worse. When we were kids, she was always the timid one, the little girl who needed protecting. I thought she was running from something awful, something that someone had done to her." Kara shook her head. "I had no idea it would be something like this."

"Family makes people do crazy things, eh?"

"You're telling me."

"So her father is your uncle?"

"Yeah. May as well have been my father, though. He took care of me more than his brother ever did."

"How so?"

Kara shrugged. "My mom died when I was twelve, so I lived with them in Bruma for four years while my father ran around the Imperial City."

"I'm sorry, lass. How did she die? If you don't mind me asking."

"It's fine. It was blood lung. There was a nasty bout of it going around the poor in Bruma one winter. It got the best of her before any priests could do much, and we had no money for proper healing. She was just…unlucky." If she closed her eyes, Kara could still hear the painful coughing in the middle of the night.

"So Eiri's family raised you."

"Yeah, for a few years. Those were the years they fell on hard times, as well. My uncle, Harrald, he was a stonemason. He traveled all over Tamriel, before meeting my aunt, in Skyrim. They settled in Bruma, and had Eiri. He started working on the walls around the city, and sometimes the castle and chapel. He was a well-respected man in Bruma, an honest worker, and fair. So nobody understood why it had to happen to him." Kara shook her head. "He was working up on the roof of the chapel. It was something he had done hundreds of times before. But…the winds up there, they - they were strong and-"

"He fell."

Kara nodded. "The healers made certain he would walk again, but they said there would always be pain afterwards. He could no longer climb or do much of anything after that."

"So, to put his girl through the college, he made a deal with a daedra."

"A Daedric _Prince_, no less."

Brynjolf chuckled, shaking his head. "Family."

"Yeah."

The two of them stood there a moment, Kara staring down into the canal. The moon was full, rippling, the reflection turning the water to silver. Very faintly, she could see the stars, but it was hard, with the mist sitting on the water and sparse clouds covering the sky.

She glanced at Brynjolf out of the corner of her eye. He stood in shadow, the glint of his eyes the only light. He wasn't looking at the water, but at her. She wondered what he could possibly be thinking. _Probably that I'm stupid, since I am. Eiri and I, we should never have come here._ She turned her head, openly watching him watching her. She was willing to work with them, in any attempt to get Eiri home and keep her uncle alive, but…

_Can I trust you?_

As if he could read her mind, he took a deep breath. "Look, I know you don't really trust any of us, and you've got no reason to, really. I don't know what your vendetta against thieves is, but I don't much care. Whatever you think of us, we really do want to help Eiri. She's just a kid, and if she's lucky enough to have a home and a family, then she deserves to go back to them." He rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Now that I've heard both sides of this story, though, I think you two are a lot alike."

"What do you mean?" She didn't know why she asked; she knew exactly what he was getting at.

"Both of you going to drastic lengths, doing stupid things for family. Must run in your blood."

"Yeah, I guess it does." Kara released the pole she'd been holding onto, stepping back to stand in front of him. "I should probably go."

He nodded. "Meet me tomorrow afternoon, let's say... three o'clock. There's lots to discuss."

"All right. But do we have to conduct these meetings down there? It's filthy. And it stinks."

"You'll live. Before you go, though…" Brynjolf suddenly reached for her, grabbing her by the straps of her chest piece and yanked her forward.

Kara yelped, slamming into the solid wall of his chest. "What are you _doing_?" she hissed, as he reached a hand around her.

"Don't get excited, lass. Just returning lost property." He grasped her armor at the small of her back, pulling it forward so he could slide something inside. _My dagger._ His hand brushed the bare skin beneath the leather, and against her will, she shivered.

"Right. Well. Thanks." Kara looked anywhere but at his face. He still hadn't released her yet.

"Of course."

"Yeah." Kara stepped away from him, pulling herself free, clearing her throat. "So I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have a good night, lass."

"Yeah." Kara ran up the steps to the surface of Riften, before looking back down. "Brynjolf?"

"Kara."

It was strange to hear her name from his lips not once, but twice in one night. "Um. Thank you, I suppose."

He laughed softly. "You're welcome, lass. Now get goin'."

She did, running across the bridge, her footsteps light, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, a shadow stealing through Riften.


	5. There's No Crying In Skyrim

**Thanks again for the follows and faves! You're all lovely :) So I know teleportation isn't really a thing in the Elder Scrolls (although fast-traveling DOES exist) but it should be! You'd think with spells and shouts there'd be at least _something _to get you places faster. Anyway, just thought I'd put my own little spin on it. Carry on!**

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When Kara stumbled downstairs the next day after surprisingly restful sleep, she'd already prepared a long-winded excuse for not having the money for a second day at the Bee and Barb, some story convincing enough that Keerava would take pity on her and let her stay. Once she was in sight of the common room, however, she stopped.

It was clean. The empty bottles and dirty dishes were all gone, and the tables were back in their rightful places, covered in fresh candles and flowers, their chairs upright. In fact, it looked better than before. Kara frowned, slowly walking towards the bar.

"Um, did I miss something last night, or-"

Keerava spun around, smiling. "Oh, it's you!" She rushed around the bar and pulled Kara into a hug. "Thank you so very much, Kara. You are a wonderful girl. Nicest person we've gotten here since Aerin rescued Mjoll."

"What - but I..." When Keerava released her, Kara smiled weakly. "Remind me what I did?"

"Well, on top of cleaning up in here, your renting of the room for the next month! I could use the gold to pay off some debts, so thank you."

_Who the hell did all that for me?_ "Oh. Well. Yes, you're very welcome. It was the least I could do, since you've been so…hospitable."

Keerava was so happy, she whipped up a quick lunch for Kara. The two chatted over vegetable soup, joined quickly by Keerava's partner, Talen-Jei. The common room quickly filled up, however, and the two of them were pulled away to their duties once more. Kara sat at the bar in her dry (albeit smelly) clothes, listening, watching the people at their tables as she finished off the last sliced vegetables at the bottom of her bowl. One table in particular was given a rather wide berth: seated there was a richly-dressed woman with dark hair down to her shoulders and shrewd, piercing eyes. She was sitting with a man who faced away from Kara, his head bent forward to speak to the woman.

Kara connected the dots easily, washing down her food with a swallow of the town's famous mead. "Hey, Keerava," she said, as the proprietor bustled back around behind the bar. "How often does Maven Black-Briar come in here?"

Keerava dropped the bowl she was holding, stooping to pick it up with a murmured curse. "Why don't you just shout that out for all of Riften to hear you?"

"Okay, let me just-"

Keerava yanked on the back of Kara's shirt, the fabric choking her. "That's quite enough. She comes in a few days a week. What's it to you?"

"Nothing. Just wondering." Kara pulled out of Keerava's grasp, rubbing her neck. "Who is she, anyway?"

"Nobody you want to get involved with. Just steer clear."

"Huh. I think I'll go say hello. Thanks for lunch, Keerava." Kara drained the last of her mead and slid off the stool. Keerava reached for her shirt again, but Kara was too quick; she was halfway across the common room, "accidentally" bumping into the edge of Maven's table with her hip.

"Oh, I am _so_ sorry," she said, though her tone suggested the opposite. "I am just so clumsy."

The woman was staring at Kara, her face impassive, her eyes chilly. "Indeed."

Kara surveyed Maven's face. She usually prided herself on getting the info on someone from just one look, looking at the little things to get subtle hints about who they were. Maven's eyes were cold, narrowed; she was annoyed, but she was also doing the exact same thing as Kara.

"Well, have a good day." Kara was halfway to the door when she heard Maven's voice call after her.

"Send Brynjolf my regards, _Dragonsbane_."

Kara tried not to shiver. Maybe Maven really _was_ dangerous. "Yeah, I'll get right on that…" she muttered, shoving the door open.

That time she made it through the Ratway much more quickly, before finding the Ragged Flagon filled with people. She stopped short, squinting, counting. There were nine other people down there, not counting herself, meaning three newcomers. _Great_. There were the usual suspects as she had come to know them: Dirge leaning against the sign, Vekel behind the bar, but joining Delvin, Brynjolf, and Eiri were three women. Eiri was chatting animatedly with one of them, a striking Redguard. The other two were listening, though neither appeared very interested; Kara couldn't see either of their faces, their backs to her.

Eiri fell silent when Kara approached. She scowled, before looking down at the table and folding her hands in her lap. Everyone else, however, turned and stared.

Kara made a face before she could stop herself, immediately recognizing one of the women. "_You_!"

Sapphire grinned from her seat beside Eiri. "See you got your nose taken care of."

"Yeah, no thanks to you." Kara suddenly had a sneaking suspicious that the three women were the ones who'd been hiding in the shadows the night before. _No wonder someone laughed._

"I told you to mind your own business."

Kara folded her arms over her chest. "How long do you think you can keep that up? How far do you honestly think it'll take you?"

Sapphire stared at her. "Keep what up?"

"Being an insufferable _bitch_. Is there anyone who can talk to you without getting lashed by your tongue?"

She looked momentarily taken aback, before resuming her usual scowl. "How badly do you want to find out?"

Kara made a rather rude hand gesture that had Delvin choking in the corner. The Redguard woman rushed over to help him. Brynjolf, meanwhile, sat back and watched, looked mildly amused.

"Hey!" The blonde who was leaning against the bar straightened up, glaring at Kara. "You'd better watch it."

Kara glanced at her. "Let's go, angelface. I'll take you both."

Brynjolf stood in time to intercept the blonde. "All right, that's enough. Now that we're all good and riled," his eyes flicked towards Kara, "let's make the introductions, shall we?"

"Everyone, this is Kara. Most of you know her, but Kara, this here is Vex, our expert infiltrator, and the lovely lady helping Delvin is Tonilia, our fence."

Tonilia, who seemed neither here nor there, nodded with a slight smile. Vex, on the other hand, spit in Kara's direction.

"Hey, now. Are you so eager to defend Sapphire's honor?"

"You wish." She tore her arm out of Brynjolf's grip, before casting a nasty look at Kara. "Who is she, anyway?"

"She's Eiri's cousin, and has a defining _interest_ in the plight of our young one here. She's signed on."

Vex muttered something under her breath that made Brynjolf cough to hide a laugh. "Anyway," he said, standing in the middle of the dank room. "Now that everyone is present and accounted for, I thought we'd go over the plan. First, I want to get something out of the way: Mercer."

Every member of the Thieves Guild nodded sagely, and even Eiri's expression was one of understanding. Kara, however, frowned. She raised her hand.

"What's a Mercer?"

Vex rolled her eyes, but Brynjolf ignored her. "It's not a _what_, but a _who_. Mercer Frey is our Guild Master - and if anyone tells him what we're up to-"

Delvin cut in, hooking his thumbs into his belt and leaning against the bar. "I will personally skin them alive. Got it?"

Everyone nodded.

Everyone except Kara. "Why are we sneaking around behind your leader's back?"

"He's got enough on his mind right now. Anyway, that's your cue, little one."

Eiri didn't seem very appreciative of the nickname, but she stood up. "I have almost everything I need for the ritual and the potion. There are only two ingredients I'm missing: a daedra heart, and vampire dust. Unfortunately, daedra hearts are quite rare. There's only once place I can think of that will definitely have them: the College of Winterhold."

"That's where I come in," Brynjolf said. "Mercer already assigned me a job in Windhelm, so I'll be up north anyway. I'll go, and Kara can accompany me."

She was startled to hear this news, but what else did she expect? She had volunteered her services, practically forcing them to let her help. There was no backing out now, not when there was so much at stake.

"Yeah, all right."

"Oh goody," Vex murmured. Again, Brynjolf ignored her.

"She'll come with me, we'll do the job in Windhelm, and hoof it to Winterhold to grab us a heart. At which point we'll then come back, and..."

Eiri spoke again. "Delvin's sources have tracked the shrine of Clavicus Vile to the forest outside of Falkreath. Near Helgen."

Kara stiffened, fire burning the edges of her mind, that voice echoing. The dark wings beat hot air on her face, there was the scent of burning flesh and -

"Kara?"

"Hm?" She blinked. Everyone was looking at her, even Eiri.

"You were muttering."

"Sorry, easily distracted. Please continue."

Eiri turned her attention back to the group. "Anyway, as I was saying, we don't need to worry about the vampire dust until that step, seeing as his scouts reported vampire activity close by." Delvin nodded along with her. "So the first step is the daedra heart, since that's the most difficult."

"But how are you going to break into the College?" Tonilia asked, frowning. "I thought it couldn't be done."

"Nothing's impossible. We can do it. Right, lass?"

Kara glanced at Brynjolf. Her normal citizen self shared Tonilia's concerns, having never heard of this place before, conjuring up an image of a dark tower in her mind. The thief in her, however, saw a challenge and was eagerly rising to the bait. She shrugged. "Why not?"

"But why are you taking _her_?" Vex sneered. "I'm the best infiltrator this side of the Imperial City, and I think-"

"Don't you think Mercer will find it a bit suspicious if you and I both disappear? No, Vex. You stay here."

"Fine," she huffed, glaring fiercely. "But I want a piece of the end action, and if you even try to keep me here-"

"Don't you worry about it. The end action belongs to all of us, provided things go according to Eiri's estimations. Understood?"

Everyone nodded once more, even Kara, though she had her misgivings. She still had no idea what that part of the plan was, and it didn't look like they were planning on cluing her in anytime soon. She was about to angrily demand they tell her everything, when Tonilia piped up again.

"So how are you going to get to Winterhold? Even riding would take days to get you that far north."

"I'm glad you asked, Tonilia," Brynjolf said jovially. "It just so happens our mageling friend here can teleport us."

Kara momentarily forgot her annoyance, swinging around to stare at Eiri. "You can _teleport people_?"

Eiri nodded. She still looked quite glum about not being allowed along, but at least she wasn't stopping the entire operation. "I learned the spell, and I've been practicing, so I can do more than one person now. That's also how we'll get to Helgen."

"Then why can't you just teleport us to Winterhold?"

Eiri blushed. "Well, it's still a work in progress, and I find it's easier - and safer - if we stick to shorter distances."

"So we'll get horses from Windhelm to Winterhold - don't want to take a carriage, not when the drivers are so nosy - and then…" Brynjolf grinned eagerly. "We'll break into the College of Winterhold."

_Looks like I'm not the only one eager to do the impossible. But what if we can't do it?_

* * *

That evening, Kara went back to the Bee and Barb, gathering what little she had from her room. It felt like Whiterun all over again, but this time, she'd be coming back - she hoped, anyway. She informed Keerava she'd be leaving, but tripped over for how long - how long _would_ they be gone? She hoped no longer than a few days. Having been paid up for the rest of the month, the Argonian didn't seem to mind, smiling and promising to keep her room clean and safe for her.

Talen-Jei, however, cornered her before she could reach the door. He explained that he was planning to propose to Keerava. Stifling Kara's gasp, he went into a long-winded explanation of Argonian marriage customs, but finally got to the point: he needed three flawless amethysts. Kara promised she'd keep an eye out, but she felt weird until she returned to the Ratway.

Brynjolf met her at the rickety sign near the bridge of planks that had been built to enable passage to the Ragged Flagon. "What's wrong with you, lass? You look like you swallowed a bug."

"I feel like it." She shuddered once, twice. "Ugh, people and their _sentiment_…"

"What's happened?"

She explained quickly, rolling her eyes. "What I don't get," she said once she'd finished, "is why they have to be flawless. Surely any old amethyst would do? It's just a wedding band."

_"Just_ a wedding band? I see you don't have a very high opinion of marriage."

"Why should I? Love is silly."

"You sound like Vex."

"Yeah? Well maybe I misjudged her, because she sounds like her head's screwed on right. I just don't get it."

"Don't get what? Vex?"

"_No_, love. It all seems rather pointless to me."

Brynjolf eyed her thoughtfully. "You've never been in love, have you, lass?"

"No, thank the gods. Have you?"

"Once, a long time ago."

"Was it as stupid as it looks?"

Brynjolf grinned. "Just about. But that's a story for another time…" He nudged her with his elbow, jerking his chin in the direction of the bar. Several of their associates had joined them, Eiri among them. _Time to go._

"Is this going to hurt?" Kara asked, when they had approached. Eiri had a book in one hand, and a piece of white chalk in the other. She directed them in front of her, before drawing strange symbols around the two of them on the stone floor.

"No."

"Okay." Kara nodded, before glancing down at her cousin. "Are you _sure_ it's not going to hurt?"

Eiri didn't look up from the book. "No."

"No, you aren't sure, or no, it's not going to hurt?"

This time Eiri looked up, glaring at Kara. "In about five seconds, it _is_ going to hurt, because you'll be on fire."

"Okay, okay."

Brynjolf watched Eiri as well, his back to Kara's, as she circled them and muttered to herself, flipping through the pages. "Uh. It's _not_ going to hurt, is it?"

Eiri looked up, smiling. "No, Brynjolf, you'll be just fine. It shouldn't feel more than wind and some tingling. I'm just trying to get the positioning right so you don't end up in someone's house, or in the sky."

"In the - hang on, in the sky?" Kara gaped, swiveling to look around Brynjolf. "You can do that?"

"Yep. And as soon as you get there, you'll fall and most likely break both of your legs, if not more."

"Yeesh. Maybe we should just-"

"Finished!" Eiri snapped the book shut, pocketing her chalk and wiping her hands off on her pants. "Now, you have two days. You have to be back at the Windhelm stables by then, or the spell will leave you behind."

"Cutting things a bit close to chest, aren't we?" Brynjolf asked.

Eiri didn't answer. "Here…" She stepped forward, carefully avoiding the chalk swirls below. She grabbed both of them, forcing them to entwine their arms, locking elbows. She jumped back out of the circle, checking to make sure she hadn't ruined the designs. "Okay. Now both of you stand _very_ still."

Kara didn't need to be told. The moment Eiri had forced her to lock arms with Brynjolf, she'd stiffened.

The others gathered around behind Eiri, watching as she held her hands out. The air around them shimmered like a mirage as blue light rose from the circle. Kara gasped, a tingling starting at her feet and moving upwards. Brynjolf's arms twitched around hers. The blue light and tingling climbed up their bodies; Kara felt it close over her head. Eiri squeezed her eyes shut tight, and the moment the blue light washed over Brynjolf's head, it glowed white. Kara felt the ends of her curly hair lift, before there was a rushing sound in her ears and the Ragged Flagon melted away from them.

Colors flashed before her eyes, spinning so fast they made her dizzy. She shut her eyes, wind whipping her hair around her face. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime; finally, the ground rushed up to meet them, her feet connecting painfully, knees buckling. Kara opened her eyes as her arms slid out of Brynjolf's and she fell to her knees.

Dimly, she heard Brynjolf ask, "Kara? Are you all right?"

Her answer was to crawl several feet and retch. Brynjolf took a knee beside her, but she held out an arm to keep him away. Wiping her mouth on her leather bracer for the second time in as many days, she sat up and looked around. They were not inside Windhelm but outside, near the stable. Before them stretched a stone bridge covered in snow and distantly, through the veil of white, she could see the city and the towering Palace of the Kings she'd heard about from her father long ago.

Brynjolf helped her to her feet, only briefly smiling at the way her teeth were chattering. Together, the two of them crossed the bridge and headed into Skyrim's oldest city.

Kara stared around in half-frozen surprise. She had expected Windhelm to be nicer, but the city was nothing more than an icy stronghold of crumbling, soot-stained stone. There was nobody out on the streets except guards, but she didn't blame them; what with the wind, it was well below frigid temperatures and if she and Brynjolf didn't get inside soon, they ran the risk of freezing to death. Lucky for Kara, he seemed to know his way around, pulling her towards a building directly in front of the main gate. The sign out front read Candlehearth Hall.

Snow swirled inside with them, cut off by Brynjolf slamming the door. The two of them stamped their feet on the mat, though Kara was so cold, it was hard for her to bend her knees. Brynjolf stepped up to the bar on their left, knocking a few times on the wood to rouse the woman sleeping behind it. Kara wandered past, towards the staircase to her right. The sounds of music and conversation were drifting down from above. Looking back once at Brynjolf, she began climbing the stairs.

Despite the late hour, the tables were filled. A Dunmer bard was tuning a lute in the corner, and a fire crackled merrily in the large hearth in the center of the room. Kara immediately hurried over to it, ignoring the staring, standing as close to the fireplace as she possibly could without setting her leather armor on fire. On the mantel over the fireplace was a single burning candle.

Brynjolf joined her a few minutes later, holding two bottles of mead. He offered one to her and she uncorked it with her teeth, taking a deep swig. The liquor warmed her from the inside out, and she sighed contentedly.

"Well that was an experience," Brynjolf said, drinking from his own bottle.

"Understatement. So did you get us some rooms?"

"Ahh… Well, about that. Seems they only had one available room, lass, so we're going to have to bunk up."

Kara sucked in a breath, warming herself up for one hell of an argument, but Brynjolf simply held up a hand, his expression serene.

"You can have it. I'm going back out there. I have business here, remember? You try and get some sleep." He drained the last of his mead and handed the empty bottle to her.

"But…" She stared at him. "I thought we were both going?"

He grinned. "And I thought you weren't a thief."

Kara scowled at his retreating back.

* * *

There were five hundred and twenty-four stones, and she had named each of the flies on the wall. Septimus was currently sitting on Dibella's back, his greenish wings rustling. Kara could hear them, even seated across the room. She was playing with the remains of a rib cage, rolling the bones around on the floor. _Dead man's bones._

"Nope, not," Eiri said from beside her. She was six years old and grinning. Her blonde hair gleamed, her blue eyes big, doll-like.

"Not?"

"Not dead man's. Girl's."

There was a sudden muttering from the corner. Kara turned. There was a filthy man in rags crouched there, his beard matted, his eyes rheumy. His hands were clasped together, like he was praying, and he was staring at the floor intently, seemingly miles away. A large scarlet stain covered his front.

"Not mine," he muttered. "Not mine, not mine."

She didn't ask what he was talking about - she knew. Words stuck in her throat, and it was hard for her to take a full breath.

From beside her, Eiri giggled and vanished, but one more person joined her in the dank room. It was a young man, slightly younger than her. He had dark hair that fell into his eyes, and a carefree look to him. Though his eyes were bright, his smile was confused. He was staring at the arrow protruding from his chest.

He looked up, recognizing Kara.

"You left me," he said. "They were on me, and you left."

"You were _dead_-"

"Because of you!"

Kara closed her eyes, shaking her head. _Go away, go away, go away_. When she opened her eyes, he was still there, but lying on the floor, limbs spread out at awkward angles, two more arrows sticking from him. A pool of blood stained the floor beneath him. His eyes were blank, his smile gone.

"No, he said it was simple, it was easy," Kara pleaded. "Nobody was supposed to get hurt; in and out!"

There was a _hmph_ from behind her, and the familiar scent of rosemary washed over her. "But somebody did get hurt, didn't they? Someone always gets hurt, little shadow."

Kara refused to turn around, to look at him. There was a roar from outside, and the floor beneath her feet rumbled. She looked up at the small, high window, the bars silhouetted against a red sky.

"Step up to the block, prisoner, nice and easy."

The Imperial soldier was beside her, that damned list in his hands. Beyond him, against the wall, was the Stormcloak who had helped her, Ralof. His eyes were missing. She sucked in a breath and spun around, away from him. Something hit her shoulder. She looked up. The man responsible for her capture was there, Ulfric Stormcloak. He was hanging from the ceiling, spinning slowly, his foot touching her shoulder again. His lips had been sewn shut.

Kara screamed, backing away from him. She bumped into someone, a young girl with black curls and shrewd grey eyes. More and more people were filling the room, the strange phantoms taking shape all around her: A Khajiit paced in front of her, his tail twitching, mumbling about lost gold; an Imperial City guard limped around with an arrow in his leg; Eiri was back, older now, sobbing into her burning hands; an elderly Dunmer woman was keening loudly, holding an empty box; and the old beggar in the corner was writhing now, fighting to be heard, shouting, "NOT MINE, NOT MINE!"

"_Shut up_!" Kara screamed, holding her hands over her ears, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

Just like that, it went quiet. Opening her eyes, Kara lowered her hands and gazed around. A low mist hung in the room, and behind her, there was a woman. She wore sky blue robes, her face pale, her eyes unseeing. In her hands, she held the skull that had accompanied the rib cage on the floor.

Emotions choked Kara, as she stared into the face of her dead mother. _I have her hair, her chin... I never noticed before._ "I'm sorry," Kara said, her throat constricting. "I…I never meant…"

Her mother opened her mouth, but instead of speaking, blue flowers poured out. She held the skull out for Kara to take. She did, not taking her eyes off her mother. More flowers fell, as her mother tried to speak. She gestured at the skull, and Kara looked down.

She was holding her own head, her grey eyes staring past her at the ceiling. Her blue lips were parted, her teeth bloodstained. Kara gasped, dropping it. It rolled away, coming to a rest against the wall. Flies flew from her mouth, resting on her cheeks, her nose, her eyes - distantly, a woman yelled, "_Next prisoner!_" - flies buzzed in her ears, along with her father's voice saying, "Someone always gets hurt" - the scar on her arm burned like fire, and then -

"Kara!"

She sat up with a yelp, her forehead connecting with something solid. There was a loud curse and something breaking, before light flooded Kara's eyes and she winced, throwing up an arm. When her eyes had adjusted, she lowered her arm, looking around. Brynjolf had lit the candelabra on the table beside the bed, and was staring at her with concern. There was a red mark on his chin, similar to the one she was sure she had on her forehead.

"You all right?"

Kara nodded, though her heart was still pounding, and she didn't trust herself to look him in the eyes.

He grabbed one of the chairs, spinning it around so he could face her, his arms crossed over the back of it. "What in Oblivion were you dreaming about, lass?"

"I…what?"

"I just got in from the job to find you thrashing around and yelling. I tried waking you up."

She reached up to touch her forehead, all too aware of her shaking hands and clammy skin. "Is that what you call it?"

Brynjolf rubbed a hand over his chin. "More your fault than mine. Are you going to tell me what you were dreaming about?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Fair enough. Just thought you might find you'll feel better if-"

"Brynjolf, I'm fine."

He held his hands up. "I hear you loud and clear, lass. Just wanted you to know."

Glad to move on, Kara pointed to his pack where it was laying beside the door. "How'd you do?"

"Got the job done, although… we might want to leave for Winterhold a little early."

Kara frowned. "How early?"

"Er, around now?"

"Why?"

"Think I might have been spotted. That's why I was trying to get you up. We need to get out of here before they catch on."

Immediately, she threw the blanket off and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She had slept in her undershirt and a pair of breeches; while Brynjolf turned around and looked the other way, she hastily pulled off the breeches and buckled on her leather armor. Strapping on her quiver and bow, she slid her dagger into place at the small of her back, and grabbed her own knapsack from the floor.

"So what's the plan?" she asked, as the two of them hurried out of the room, closing the door behind them.

"We get out of the city. A friend is waiting for us at one of the outlying farms with horses. We should reach Winterhold by morning."

"Great. Lovely. So first, we just - what are you doing?" she asked, watching as Brynjolf opened the door to the room next to theirs.

There was a couple inside, obviously in the middle of something, as they were half-clothed and clutching at each other. They stopped at the sight of Brynjolf and Kara. She flushed slightly, but he walked in as if he knew them.

"Evening," he said jovially, heading straight for the window across the room. "Just need your window. Kara, over here."

Closing her mouth, she stepped up to the window. Brynjolf threw it open and gave her a leg up, and she dropped out onto the stone below. Brynjolf followed, waving jauntily at the couple before shutting the window behind them.

The wind was still as bad as it had been before, if not worse, whistling past them. Before they could get far, Brynjolf stopped her and rummaged around in his bag, pulling out something dark and fluid. It was a heavy, fur-lined travel cloak with a hood and a scarf. She could have kissed him. She thought about thanking him, but he was busy pulling his own cloak on, so she decided to do the same. She covered the bottom half of her face and neck with the scarf, feeling immediately better, if not completely comfortable.

The guards eyed them suspiciously when they approached, but didn't stop them from leaving through the main gates. The snow made it hard to see, but Brynjolf knew the way, and a few minutes later, they'd arrived at Hollyfrost Farm, up the road from the city. A Nord man was waiting for them, holding the reins to two large horses. Brynjolf thanked him with a small satchel of gold. After they saddled up, they headed north, into the storm.


	6. I Love The Smell of Blood In The Morning

Riding from Windhelm was slow work, made difficult not only by the mountainous terrain, but by the raging winds and fierce cold. Their horses stumbled often on icy rocks, and the snow was so high in places that it touched Kara's feet, soaking her toes through her boots. Normally, she might have talked to while away the time, but the wind was so loud that they would have to yell back and forth, and as it was, she had a lot on her mind.

The nightmare had rattled her, leaving her with the remnants of faces she had tried so hard to forget, of blood on her hands she had tried to wash clean. She looked down at her hands, closed tightly around the reins and covered by gloves. Maybe it wasn't possible to wash them clean. Maybe every mistake was right there, invisible, hidden beneath her skin. And if it was, what did that make her?

Kara glanced up and to the right, her eyes narrowed against the flecks of snow. _And here I am again, with someone I barely trust, riding into the thick of things._ The whole thing felt stupid. If her father was around, he'd-

_Well, he isn't, and in case you've forgotten, you can't trust him either._ She took a deep breath. _One thing at a time. _

After only several hours of riding, Brynjolf halted. She pulled her horse up beside his, leaning so far over to hear his shouting that she nearly fell from her saddle. The only words she could make out over the screaming wind were "_storm _-_ bad _-_ need _-_ stop_" and that was good enough for her. He gestured over to their right, and she followed him blindly through the blizzard. She could see nothing but white.

So she never saw it coming. Something large slammed into her, knocking her from her horse and into the snow.

Kara let out a surprised scream, but the wind tore the sound away from her before it could take shape. She tumbled over and over down what felt like a hill, whatever had slammed into her falling with her. There was a snarl next to her ear, and something sharp sliced her arm. She cried out, nearly choking on a mouthful of snow.

As they rolled, her bow fell off her back; she scrambled for it, but it disappeared. Seized with a newfound fury, she punched and kicked, becoming tangled in the cloak Brynjolf had given her. One of her kicks connected, and the thing screeched, pulling away from her. She rolled to a stop against something solid, her head slamming against it. Black spots punctuated her vision as she rolled over. It hurt to draw a full breath, as she struggled to her feet.

The hood fell back off her head, as she looked up into the orange eyes of a snowy sabre cat. Slightly smaller than a bear, it was mere feet from her, spotted coat ruffled by the wind, its lips pulled back in a growl.

Kara reached behind her, clumsily pulling the dagger from its sheath. Her fingers were numb even in her gloves, and she could barely grip it. She tried to side-step, to match the sabre cat as it prowled around her, but her feet sank into the snow until it was past her ankles. There was no way she could fight, not in those conditions.

A startling thought stole through her mind: _I'm going to die out here in the snow._

She had just one other thought as the sabre cat crouched, legs pulled in tight, preparing to spring. Lowering her right arm, she stood still, preparing for the inevitable, letting her eyes flutter closed.

From her right, there was a whistling sound, followed by the sabre cat yowling. Kara's eyes snapped open. There was a dagger buried in the cat's shoulder, staining its coat red. It looked furious, leaping in the direction the dagger had come from, vanishing from her sight into the snow.

Even knowing it wasn't possible, Kara looked down at her own hand. She was still clutching her own dagger. So that meant-

From somewhere in the distance, the sabre cat groaned. Kara took a step forward, shielding her eyes against the fervent snow flurries. "Brynjolf?"

There was no answer but the howling wind.

"Brynjolf!"

A voice spoke from her left. "I'm right here, lass."

Kara shrieked, dropping her dagger. He stooped to pick it up for her. When he straightened, she reacted, lunging to punch him, her knuckles connecting with his jaw. He staggered back a step, while Kara clutched her hand and swore.

"What the hell was that for?" Brynjolf rubbed his jaw, glaring at her. Too late, she realized he was still holding her dagger.

Adrenaline soured, turning swiftly to hysteria. "For taking my money, and pushing me in the canal, and hurting my nose, and scaring the shit out of me right now! Wear a bell or something before you sneak up on someone!"

He just stared at her, eyebrows raised. "You finished, lass?"

"No!"

"Well, in case you hadn't noticed, I just saved your life."

"I didn't need you to. I had everything under control."

He scoffed. "Yeah, right. You were finished. What, were you praying to Talos that you might see your family again?"

"No," she shot back. "I was sad because I'd never get another honey nut treat. I don't think they have those in Sovngarde."

"Not for ungrateful chits like you, they don't."

"You-" Suddenly, the energy evaporated from her, and her head spun. She looked down, noticing for the first time that there was blood in the snow between them. She swallowed hard. "Did the cat get you, Brynjolf?"

"Nah, I managed to avoid it. Why? I…" He noticed the blood then, too. "Lass, you're cut."

"Am I?" Kara's voice sounded far away, and her vision swam. "Where?"

If he answered her, she didn't hear it. The edges of her vision darkened and the next gust of wind unbalanced her. She felt herself falling sideways, but something caught her just before she hit the ground.

* * *

Kara came awake slowly, as if she was swimming through murky water to reach the surface. Images faded slowly from her mind, the remnants of a dream with blue flowers and a woman singing softly, leaving only a feeling of familiarity and confusion. She wanted to go back to sleep, to find that woman, but it was too late: she was awake, and her body refused to be ignored.

She rolled over, wincing when pain throbbed all throughout her body, particularly her head and right arm. Her eyes felt strained behind closed lids, and her mouth tasted like copper. And yet…she felt warm.

Kara barely opened her eyes, squinting. A merrily crackling fire lit the space in front of her, pleasantly warming her face. Confused, she felt at the ground with one hand. Stone.

There was a chuckle from beyond the fire. "Confused, lass?"

She frowned automatically. Brynjolf was sitting against the far wall, looking as if it wasn't unheard of for him to be out in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm.

Kara sat up slowly, placing a hand against her head as the pounding intensified. Gingerly, she felt strips of bandage at her hairline. She glanced at Brynjolf. "I take it I'm not dead?"

"Not today. You hit your head though on one of the stones out there in the snow - remains of ruins, no doubt - so you'll probably be feeling under the weather for a while." Brynjolf hesitated. "You did have a healing potion in your pack, but I wasn't sure if you'd want-"

"Yeah, of course! I have a few of them, or, I should anyway." Kara looked around for her bag, just noticing for the first time the strange place they were sitting in. Surrounding them was a circular stone wall, rising up into an open dome. Wooden stairs twisted up the sides and out of the dome, presumably to solid ground. The wind whistled overhead, but they were blissfully protected from it.

She paused. "Brynjolf, where are we?"

"About halfway to Winterhold. We were only a few minutes from here, so I brought you over here after you passed out."

"Yeah, but what is this place?"

"Just a ruin, lass. Don't trouble your head over it." His expression said otherwise. She wanted to ask him about it, but she had a feeling that doing so would be pointless.

"What about the horses?"

"They're fine. Tethered them up top at some of the old standing stones."

Kara nodded. "Okay, so what's our next move?"

"First, you need that healing potion."

He tossed something towards her over the fire; she caught it with one hand. It was her bag, the things inside clanking as they rolled around. She had the healing potion halfway out of it before she smirked.

"You enjoy looking through my things?"

A look crossed Brynjolf's face, and for a split second, she thought he might deny it. Instead, he grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "Wasn't much to see, to be honest. A few potions, some paper, a quill, a bottle of Black-Briar mead, and a handful of jewelry and semi-precious gems. Not really impressive, lass."

"I bet you think I stole the jewelry and stones."

"Didn't you?"

She shrugged, popping the cork off the healing potion. She sniffed it hesitantly, before recoiling. "Well, bottom's up." She swallowed it as fast as she could, shuddering. "_Ugh_."

"Well?"

"Tastes like rat piss."

"I'm not even going to ask." Brynjolf laughed. "I meant how do you feel?"

"Give it a minute." She threw the empty bottle against a far wall; it burst, the shards of glass catching the firelight, looking like stars, before disappearing. "You got any food?"

He tossed her something else this time. It was a small sack. She pulled it open to find a few pieces of bread, dried venison, and an apple. "Save the apple for breakfast, we haven't got much else. I expected to be at Winterhold by now."

Kara's scowled. "Well, _so_ sorry I got attacked by a sabre cat. Next time, I'll be _much_ more careful."

"That wasn't a personal attack, lass, merely a statement." Still, he smiled. "Go on, eat."

She did, tearing into her venison savagely, choking down swallows of the cold meat and stiff bread. She hadn't even realized how hungry she was until she'd tasted the food; she didn't come up for air until she had eaten everything but the apple, even diving into her bag to wash everything down with the bottle of mead Bjorlam had given her. It warmed her from the inside out, and she felt pleasantly full when she drank the last dregs and set the bottle down. She tossed her apple into her bag, looking up to see Brynjolf watching her.

"What?"

"I'm curious about you, lass."

"Oh?"

"About earlier. Were you really going to just give up and let that cat kill you?"

Kara stared into the fire, watching the flames leap up into the air, tasting it greedily. "No, not really," she finally said, shrugging. "I was hoping it would fall for it and jump me again, so I could try and get my knife up into its belly. There was no sense in me going for it, not with that deep snow."

Brynjolf nodded. "Risky, but clever. So there's no overwhelming death wish I should know about?"

Kara smiled in spite of herself, though on the inside she was wondering the same thing. She _had _lowered her weapon, and she could think it through now, but at the time, she had no plans to attack that cat. She was fully preparing to let that cat gut her, if only to... She remembered her last thought, just before she closed her eyes. Perhaps it was better if she kept those things to herself, squashed down deeper inside, where not even she would be able to find it. _Stupid of me, to let go. She'd be ashamed of me. _

"Nah," Kara said, shaking her head. "You don't need to worry about me. That sort of thing is for the Companions, and all those other glory-in-death believers."

"Yeah? And what do you believe in, Quick-Draw?"

"Good question. I'll get back to you on that." Smirking, she pointed at him. "Anything else you want to know, now that we're having honesty hour?"

She meant it as a joke. She didn't expect him to say, "Yeah. Where are you from?"

"Bruma. I told you already."

"No, you said you were raised there, you lived there. You never said you were born there."

"How is it any of your business?"

Brynjolf stared at her evenly for a minute. "Tell you what, lass. You tell me about you, I'll answer any question you've got for me. Honesty hour, just like you said."

"Any question?"

"_Any_ question. But first, answer mine."

That seemed like a trick, but Kara couldn't hide the fact that she wanted to know more about the place they were at, and even more about the Thieves Guild itself.

"Fine." She sighed, looking down, scraping at some of the blood on her armor with a fingernail. "I wasn't born in Cyrodiil," she said. "I was born here. We left when I was three."

"Why?"

"My mother didn't like it here. It was too cold for her."

"Really? You'd think since she was a Nord, she-" He stopped dead at the look on Kara's face. "But she wasn't a Nord, was she?"

Slowly, Kara shook her head. "She had been living in Skyrim for years. I don't know why. She met my father and they had this ridiculous whirlwind romance that left them with a sweetroll in the pocket, so to speak. After that, of course there was only one option, so to the Temple of Mara they went. To make her happy, my father decided we'd move to Cyrodiil."

"So your mother was…an Imperial?"

Kara nodded. "It's kind of funny, isn't it? I'm half Nord, half Imperial." Kara remembered all that talk that Ralof had spouted in the wagon on the way to Helgen. "Just like Skyrim."

He cracked a smile. "It is a bit funny, when you think about it. But I'm sure you're not the only one. Even Vex, I think, might be-"

"You don't have to make me feel better about this, you know. It doesn't really bother me." She cut him off before he could say anything more. "And now I believe it's my turn. What's wrong with the Thieves Guild?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why is it that you're taking a job from a fifteen-year-old girl? Are things really that bad? Maul told me when I first got into town that you've been hitting hard times. What happened?"

Brynjolf shrugged. "Can't rightly say, lass. Delvin reckons it's a curse, but Vex seems to think it's just pure bad luck. Ever since-" He stopped short, his face unreadable.

"Ever since what?"

"It's my turn now. Your parents went to Cyrodiil. What happened next?"

Kara frowned, but went on. "I don't really remember, but my uncle told me once that my mother had originally gone to her parents for help. They lived in the Imperial City, and were quite wealthy, as I understood it. She asked them to pay for most of a little house on the outskirts of the city. It was away from the city life, like my mother wanted, and there was plenty of room for a garden for her and for me to grow up. I guess they'd never liked my father, angry with my mother for ruining their good name or some other such nonsense, so they said no. My parents were forced to rent a tiny shack with another family on the Waterfront. And then my dad left."

"Where'd he go?"

"Nope, my turn." Kara pointed at the door beside Brynjolf. She had only just now noticed it in the glow from the fire; her desire to know only increased. "What _is_ this place?"

Brynjolf glanced at the door, before glaring at Kara. He huffed out a breath. "It's Snow Veil Sanctum."

"And you don't like it because...?"

"Our former guild leader, Gallus, was killed here."

"What happened?"

"He was murdered in cold blood by someone he thought he could trust. I won't get into the whole story, lass - it's sort of a sore spot, but there it is."

"So…after he was killed, that's when things started going badly?"

Brynjolf nodded. "We haven't had a spot of good luck since. Except maybe your cousin arriving."

"You call _that_ good luck?"

"Well, we're still waiting for something to go wrong, but this could help in the long-run."

Kara laughed, pointing at the bandages on her head. "In case you hadn't noticed, things are already going wrong, but let me know when this becomes just another notch of bad luck in your books."

Brynjolf grinned. "You must be feeling better."

Now that he mentioned it, she was. Her head barely hurt at all, and the stabbing pains she'd felt in her right arm were nearly gone. _Speaking of which…_ Kara looked down at her leather bracer. "Yeah, I guess I do. So is honesty hour over now?"

Brynjolf looked up at the night sky above them. "Looks like it. The storm seems to have calmed a bit. I'm going out for a look…" He stood, stretching, before he climbed the wooden steps, disappearing from sight.

Kara waited until he was gone, before she felt at the leather of her bracer. Three torn strips pulled open to expose her arm and the three deep cuts there. They had closed - a result of the potion, no doubt - but the skin around them still looked red and angry. _Brynjolf didn't know I'd been cut, he thought it was just my head. But if he wraps it up, he'll see…_

"Hey!" Brynjolf called down. "You coming up here? The storm's died down quite a bit. We could leave now, if you're ready."

Her hand flinched instinctively to cover the scar on her arm, though there was no way he could see it from up there, with her bracer over it. "Yeah, I'll be right there!" she called back. Gathering up her things, she threw her bag over her shoulder and ascended to the surface of Skyrim.

Brynjolf was right: The blizzard had ceased, the wind softening to a chilly breeze. Snow still swirled around their ankles, but it was no longer falling from the sky. The clouds had moved north, unveiling the brilliant Skyrim sky. Above them, coating the stars, was a purple haze edged in green and pink, the hues twining, the sky glowing blue. Kara gasped at the sight of it. It had never looked that way on her journey from Whiterun to Riften, and she was momentarily dumb-struck.

"Nice, huh?" Brynjolf sounded amused.

"It's very…wow."

"Aye, it is. Now," in a mock-serious voice, he gestured to his right, "if you'll kindly turn your attention to the horses…"

Kara did, glancing towards where Brynjolf was standing, untying the reins to his horse from around a standing stone. Her horse had already been untied, and sitting on the saddle was-

"My bow!" Kara couldn't run over fast enough. She felt sick, realizing not only had she lost the bow in the fight with the sabre cat, but she'd also forgotten about it. She snatched it up, clutching it to her chest. "How did you find it?"

"I tripped over it as I was carrying you. I figured you might not want to lose that."

Her hands closed around the familiar wood, and she closed her eyes. He had no idea, but that meant the world to her. "Thank you," she said quietly. "For this, and for…saving my life."

"Not a problem, lass. Consider it payback for saving me from a dragon."

Kara happily slung her bow over her back and climbed up on her horse. It didn't matter that she was hurt or that they were slightly behind schedule. She was alive, she had her bow, and they were on their way to Winterhold. If she squinted, she could just make out the tower of the College in the distance. _Everything's going according to plan._

"I didn't save you, you know," she said, as they began riding. "Not really, anyway."

"Yes, you did."

Kara frowned. "No, I didn't."

"If you hadn't killed that dragon, I bet somewhere in all that, I would've been horribly maimed and killed. So just consider us even."

Kara was silent for a moment, before starting up again. "But the dragon had never really targeted you-"

"Lass, let it go."

They kept arguing, even as they rode past snowy hills and frost-bitten trees, finding their way onto a cobblestone road. They didn't stop until the sun turned the tops of trees to gold, and before them, at the bottom of a hill, were the little houses and shops of Winterhold, covered in snow, gleaming in the dawn.


	7. Winterhold, We Have A Problem

**Thanks for the reviews! You're awesome :)**

* * *

"So, _this_ is Winterhold?" Kara snorted. "Doesn't look like much."

"I forget, you're new here." When Kara made a sound, he smirked and went on. "Winterhold used to be a great capital city in the hold. Could've given Solitude a run for it's money, I wager. But that was before the Great Collapse."

"Which is…?"

"Eight years ago, several storms - worse by far than the one that just passed - assaulted the city. It was like the ground just disappeared right from underneath the buildings, and before anyone knew it, more than half the city fell into the sea. Most people left after that, especially those whose homes were taken, if they managed to survive." Brynjolf nudged his horse forward, and Kara did the same.

"The strange thing is that the College was left mostly untouched. People began to think it was magick that had done it, which is why so many people don't trust the mages there. Another theory is that it was an aftershock of what happened to the Red Mountain in Vvardenfell. Whatever the reason, the city has never been the same."

Despite the subject matter, Kara couldn't help smiling. "You really like telling that story, don't you?"

"I never lived there, so yes. But we Nords are natural story-tellers. Didn't your father ever tell you any tales? Of Shor or Ysmir, perhaps?"

Kara's mouth thinned to a hard line. "No, he didn't." She nudged her horse ahead of Brynjolf's, riding into the city with him close behind her.

It wasn't much of a city, not anymore. A town, perhaps, and a small one. To their right were the ruins of a house, most likely demolished by the storms Brynjolf had mentioned. As they rode down the main street, Kara could tell just by looking around that the place had fallen on hard times. There were only four actual buildings: an inn, a shop, a house, and what looked like the Jarl's place, judging by the tattered banners waving outside emblazoned with a circle and within it, a crown, its points woven. At the end of the road was a large stone arch, a ramp rising up to it. Beyond that, Kara already knew.

"How are we getting to Enthir?" she asked quietly, when Brynjolf pulled up beside her. There was a mammoth skull beside the entrance to the College; Kara pretended to be curiously staring at it, in case any guards walked by.

"Your guess is as good as mine, lass."

"Hm. Do you have any rope on you?"

"Ah, no. Why?"

"I think I have an idea."

She filled him on their way back to the inn. He listened, never once stopping her to interrupt, though she could tell by the expression on his face that there was a question burning his tongue. They tethered their horses to a tree outside the inn, with Kara finishing her explanation by the time they'd climbed the steps to go inside.

Brynjolf stopped her just before she opened the door. "That's all well and good, lass, but that still doesn't explain how we're going to get _inside_. It's closed to anyone who can't use magick!"

Kara smiled. "Trust me, Brynjolf, I have it all planned." She reached up and patted his cheek. "Don't trouble your head over it,_ lad_."

Brynjolf rolled his eyes and grinned, pushing her slightly as she opened the door to The Frozen Hearth.

They rented a room and since neither of them planned on sleeping much, it didn't bother Kara this time that it was just the two of them in such a small space. They spent most of the day collecting the items they would need for the ruse Kara had in mind: a long length of rope, a hide helmet, an axe, two magicka potions, a silver circlet inlaid with moonstones, and a pair of robes, all stolen from the few establishments and their denizens throughout the city. When they returned, they went over the plan several times, though Kara still refused to tell Brynjolf how she was going to get them inside.

He eventually said he was going to sleep for a few hours, advising her to do the same. She was too awake, however, so she could only sit on the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, thinking of what was about to happen. So many things could go wrong, and though that was admittedly why Kara suggested the rope, she sincerely hoped everything would work out. As long as she and Brynjolf kept up their disguises, she figured it should go off without a hitch.

Kara looked down at Brynjolf, sleeping on a blanket on the floor, using his cloak as a pillow. Against her better judgment (and despite his annoying remarks) she was kind of, sort of, starting to like him. She only hoped it wouldn't end badly, for she knew, without a doubt, that it would end. _It's got to, hasn't it? I'm not staying here. Once this is all over, Eiri and I are gone._

She watched him for a few more minutes, making sure he really was asleep. Convinced by his deep breathing, she cupped one of her hands in front of her. _Focus and surrender. Let it surround you._ She bit her lip, pulling forth the energy, drawing it from the air. Her hand stung painfully, prickling like it'd fallen asleep, before a tiny flame sprouted in her palm. She held onto it, watched it grow like a flower, glowing in her hand.

Brynjolf stirred on the floor, turning over and mumbling something. Kara jumped, dropping the spell immediately. She watched him uneasily, wondering if the fire had woken him. When she was once more sure he was sound asleep, she thought of doing it again, but her headache had returned. Instead, she lay down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking once more on the mess Eiri had gotten them all into.

When Brynjolf woke up, it was mid-afternoon. Kara pretended to be waking from a refreshing nap as well, though she hadn't slept at all since Snow Veil Sanctum. They went over the plan one more time - though they both could've recited it word for word by then - before he left the room so she could change. She stripped out of her leather armor, pulling on the blue robes. She brushed the cuts on her arm and winced. They were still quite sore, and redder than ever. Reminding herself to get Eiri to take care of them when they returned, she also donned her cloak and the silver circlet. She tried her best to tame her wild curls, but they would only do so much, and she quickly gave up. Gathering up her leather armor, she left the inn.

Brynjolf was standing outside, wearing the hide helmet and the axe strapped across his back. He looked more like a warrior, which was the aim, but he looked supremely uncomfortable and kept readjusting the helmet. Kara thought of reprimanding him, but she decided it would be better not to piss him off and gritted her teeth in silence instead. They hid her armor beneath a fallen log just out of view of the town, before checking each other over once.

"I really hope you know what you're doing, lass."

"I do. Kind of. Let's go!"

They walked back up the main road, Kara assembling her haughtiest expression, Brynjolf looking tough behind her. She tried not to panic as they walked up the stone ramp, looking from side to side, like poison arrows might shoot through them at any second.

As she crested the top of the ramp, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Kara jumped, swallowing a shriek. It was a woman, an Altmer by the look of her, and she did not look pleased to see either of them.

"Cross the bridge at your own peril!" she intoned. "The way is dangerous, and the gate will not open. You shall not gain entry!"

Kara and Brynjolf exchanged a look. His eyebrows were raised, as if to say _I told you_, but Kara brushed him off. "Yes, well, that's lovely, but I need to get to the College."

The woman still looked suspicious. "But what is it you expect to find within?"

"I seek wisdom and knowledge," Kara said, her voice as somber as she could make it.

The woman's severe expression softened to one of thoughtfulness. "Hm. It would seem the College has what you seek. The question now is what _you_ can offer the College."

"Meaning what?"

"Not just anyone is allowed inside. Those wishing to enter must show some degree of skill with magick. A small test, if you will."

"All right. I'll take your test."

"Excellent! The Mage Light skill is useful to any mage, not just those specializing in Alteration. Can you cast one on the seal on the ground?"

"Okay, I can do that." Brynjolf made a small noise behind her, but she stepped aside, raising her left hand and gritting her teeth. Desperately trying to appear as though she wasn't in pain, she called forth the energy, building a small glowing white light in her hand. It shimmered blue when she cast it, sticking to the blazing eye seal on the ground and lighting up their small alcove. She didn't look at him, but Kara was certain Brynjolf was staring.

"Well done, indeed. I think you'll make a superb addition to the College!" The woman finally cracked a small smile. "Welcome, Apprentice. My name is Faralda. I'll lead you across the bridge. Once you're inside, you'll want to speak with Mirabelle Ervine, our Master Wizard. Please, follow me."

When they both started after her, she stopped immediately. Her smile had vanished. "Wait. I said I'd lead _you_ across the bridge. Who is this?"

_Phase One, prepare for action._ "Ah! Of course, how silly of me." Kara smiled as convincingly as she could. "I'm a Thane of Whiterun. This is my housecarl, Bryn. He's the strong, silent type. A bit slow, if I'm being frank, probably from all those hits to the head, but an excellent fighter, oh yes. He was assigned to me by Jarl Balgruuf, and he is sworn to defend my very life. As such, he and I go everywhere together. You never know where your life may need defending, you see."

"Yes, I suppose you're right." Faralda's suspicious look had returned. "A Thane of Whiterun, you say?"

"Yes. You see, I killed a dragon that was attacking their hold. Saved quite a few lives, including the Jarl's. Dreadful business, really, but when it happened, I…" She feigned an uncomfortable look. "Well, perhaps I shouldn't say."

Faralda's eyes had widened. "A _dragon_? Oh, you needn't worry about me. Who would I tell out here all by myself?"

"Fair point. Well, all right." Kara leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "When I killed it, I took some of the dragon's power. I absorbed it's very soul."

She gasped. "_You're_ the Dragonborn everyone keeps talking about?"

"Yes. That's why I'm here. There are so many things I need to know. It is my destiny to slay dragons - to protect Skyrim with my life - and Bryn's is to make sure I stay alive to do that."

"Oh, I _see_. But…with respect, may I ask for a demonstration of your abilities? Just so I know you are indeed who you say you are." She looked apologetic, but there, in her red eyes, Kara could see her disbelief.

She looked over at Brynjolf. He had his arms folded over his chest, his eyebrows raised. Internally, she sighed. She hadn't wanted to do this - hadn't even wanted to admit that it was happening to her - but now she had no choice to prove Brynjolf's suspicions right. Reminding herself that it was all for her family, she clenched her teeth hard into a smile.

"Of course. If you'll just step back, please. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

They did as she said, leaving the bridge open for her. Kara took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. Closing her eyes, she felt her breathing change, felt it deepen, turn into something more. She opened her mouth, the air shivering around her, as she shouted, _"Fus!"_ Faralda and Brynjolf both made similar noises of shock and amazement, so she assumed it worked.

She opened her eyes, planting a hand on her hip. "So?"

Faralda pointed at the bridge. "F-follow me," she said weakly.

Kara grinned at Brynjolf, flashing him a thumbs up behind Faralda's back. Together, the two of them followed Faralda, hanging back as she cast a spell similar to Kara's Mage Light at what looked like a well in front of them. Kara watched as a jet of blue light shot into the air from the well. The woman kept walking like it was nothing, so Kara decided to do the same.

Brynjolf fell in step behind her, so close she could feel him. "You didn't tell me you could do magick," he murmured under his breath.

"Didn't want to spoil the surprise," she whispered back, watching as the Faralda repeated the process.

Brynjolf huffed and Kara suspected he wanted to say more, but neither of them had a chance. So far the entire bridge had been narrow, old, and covered in snow, but the particular stretch of bridge in front of them was more worn, pieces missing, including the wall in some places, leaving them to walk along unevenly with nothing on either side of them but open air. Kara held her hands out to balance, and to her surprise, she felt a hand grasp the robes at the small of her back.

"I've got you, lass."

"I don't think I believe you. Not after I made that slow-witted comment."

Brynjolf laughed softly. "Trust me, there are easier, cleaner ways to get you back for that."

Luckily for them, they made it, as the bridge sloped upward to a tower. Faralda gestured them towards it; the bottom opened into an arch, and beyond, Kara could see a gate bearing the same blazing eye swing open. Exchanging a look with Brynjolf, they both followed the pathway.

"Well, well. Looks like everything's working according to plan," he said quietly.

"You sound so surprised."

"I admit, I was skeptical. But you've proved me wrong yet again, lass. And right." He grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving past the gate. "You're really Dragonborn."

"Is this really the time to discuss it?"

Brynjolf released her, shaking his head. "You're right. We should keep going, but you better believe we're going to talk later."

"Oh, goody."

Striding ahead of him, she discovered a large courtyard surrounded by a circular walkway. In the center of the courtyard was another well, blue light streaming towards the sky. Beyond that was a stone statue of a mage, looking like he was conjuring the light himself. Kara couldn't help stopping and staring. In all the things she had done in her life, nothing came quite close to her latest adventures in Skyrim. Brynjolf had to nudge her along, reminding her of the plan.

She looked at him incredulously. "You do realize we're probably some of the only people who have ever been in here without the intention of staying?"

"Not necessarily. Rune came here looking for clues about his past." When her face remained blank, he shrugged. "Right. You haven't met Rune. Never mind."

"Who names their kid Rune?" she asked, wrinkling her nose.

"No one. Come on, I think that's your woman over there. I'll just hang back and act slow-witted, shall I?"

"Shouldn't be too hard." She smirked, dodging a half-hearted swing, before heading towards a woman with short, dark hair sitting on a bench, poring over a book. "Excuse me, would you be Mirabelle Ervine?"

The woman looked up sharply. "Yes. And who might you be?"

"I'm a new Apprentice, I was told to come see you-"

"Another new student? I'm surprised at how many of you there are lately." She paused, looking at Brynjolf. "And this is…?"

Kara quickly recounted the situation, telling Mirabelle the same things she'd told Faralda. Lucky for the pair of them, she didn't require proof.

"Was that what I heard? Such a strange sound… Hm. Well, this is no doubt a very unusual situation. I would suggest we speak with the Arch-Mage but he is very busy. Perhaps until later… Yes, come along. I'll give you a brief tour and you can wait in the Hall of Attainment until he can receive you."

"Lovely!"

Kara only pretended to listen as Mirabelle led them around the courtyard. She looked around, surveying their surroundings, thinking of their plan. They hadn't exactly come up with an escape plan - a huge rookie mistake that she had learned from her father years before - but they were short for time, and there had been so much the two of them didn't know about the College. The further they journeyed in, the more difficult their escape, however it went, was starting to seem.

"Here is the Hall of Attainment, where our newest members are housed," Mirabelle said, stopping outside a door. "I'll ask that you please keep your voice down while inside, as others may be working on research or… delicate experiments."

"Oh yes, of course," Kara said, nodding, as they followed her inside.

The Hall of Attainment was much like the courtyard: circular, with another large well in the center, with a darker blue light flowing up through a hole in the ceiling to the floor above.

"There's an empty room just here," Mirabelle pointed to an open archway on their right. "You can wait here. I'll fetch you when the Arch-Mage is ready. Try not to wander."

Kara thanked her, walking into the small room and sitting down on the bed. It was crammed full of furniture: there were two bedside tables, several barrels, a small table and chair, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf that was almost as tall as the ceiling. There were also several tables covered in strange items like glowing gems, and on one, a skull. Kara reached for a book on one of the bedside tables, picking it up and flipping through it. It was called Azura and the Box; immediately, she thought of Eiri and her Dunmer friend. She slipped the book into her bag.

"All right, she's gone," Brynjolf said. "Now we need to find Enthir. He should be in here somewhere."

They searched each of the rooms, peering in through the open archways, but no one was there. The entire Hall seemed empty and completely still.

"Can you imagine," Kara said, making a face, "having to live here and not even have the luxury of a door? How do they change their clothes? How do they…" she waggled her eyebrows, "fraternize?"

Brynjolf grinned. "I'm going to guess that _fraternizing_ is strictly forbidden here. Hence why they have no doors." He pointed to their left, to a stone staircase. "Think there are more rooms?"

"Only one way to find out."

They took the stairs two at a time, finding a room similar to the one below. It seemed just as empty, and they were preparing to give up when a Bosmer man wearing rumpled robes and rubbing his scarlet eyes stepped out of the arch to their left, frowning as he gazed at them. Kara nearly jumped a foot in the air, grabbing one of Brynjolf's arms, and promptly letting go again when she realized what she had done. He looked bemused; she just glared, directing her attention to the elf.

"What is it with you apprentices and making so much noise?" He rubbed a hand against his forehead. "I swear, your only purpose here is to torment me into-"

"Enthir," Brynjolf said, smiling, pulling his helmet off and shaking back his long hair. "Good to see you again."

Enthir's mouth dropped open. "Brynjolf… What in Oblivion are you doing here? More importantly, _how_ did you get in?"

"My friend here, Kara, managed to sneak us in by pretending to be a mage. Crazy, eh?"

"I wouldn't exactly call us friends-"

"Really?" Brynjolf looked at her, surprised. "After the sabre cat and the working so well together to get in here? Don't you think we've reached that point?"

Kara tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe. What about acquaintances? There's still a lot I don't know about you."

"Eh, I think we've passed _that_. Accomplices?"

Kara shook her head. "Sounds too criminal."

"Well, we can't have that." Brynjolf rolled his eyes. "Associates?"

"Hm. Yeah, that one sounds good!"

"If you two are done," the elf said, scowling pointedly, "would you mind explaining to me what is going on here?"

They brought him up to speed on their quest, if it could be called such, as quickly as they could, up to them convincing Faralda and Mirabelle (but conveniently leaving out the part about her being Dragonborn) and finding him. He listened, only interrupting once or twice, mostly to glower and grunt when they mentioned daedra.

"So you need a daedra heart from me."

"Yes." Kara glanced over her shoulder. She thought she'd heard a door open below. "And quickly, if you don't mind."

He surveyed her thoughtfully. "This cousin of yours. She'll be conducting the ritual?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I don't really know all of the finer points." Kara frowned, looking down over the ledge of the well, squinting past the bright blue light.

"And she's a very experienced mage, who has dealt with this sort of thing before?"

"Um, to be honest, no. She's a fifteen-year-old girl attending the College in Bruma. Why? What does it matter?"

Enthir scowled. "It matters a great deal, actually, now that you-"

"Lass, what _are_ you looking at?"

"I thought I heard voices." She leaned over so far to see that Brynjolf grabbed her by the back of her robes again, keeping a firm hold on her.

Enthir opened his mouth, but Brynjolf shushed him, listening too.

Kara held her breath, straining. Footsteps. And voices. Two. One female. "…they can't have gone far."

"It's Mirabelle," Kara said, her voice hushed. "If she didn't suspect us before, she does now. We've got to go."

Brynjolf swore, yanking Kara back up, and rounding on Enthir. "You're either with us or you aren't."

"All right, here." He ran back into his room, rummaging around in a cupboard before slamming it shut and returning. He dumped a jar into Kara's hands. She held it up, grimacing. Floating in the briny water was a daedra heart, its veins black and twisted. "It's fresh," he said, nodding at the jar. "Should work very well."

"While we have you here, how do we get out?"

Enthir pointed to the staircase. "Third floor, there's a door to the roof. Dunno how you'll get down there after that, but there's a trapdoor in the courtyard, I told you about it Bryn-"

Mirabelle's voice carried. "You check down here, I'll check the second floor. Enthir might have seen them."

"Shit. Lass, we gotta go."

"Okay. Thanks, Enthir." She turned away, but he grabbed her arm.

"Don't do it."

"What?"

Brynjolf stared between the two of them. "Enthir, is now the time?"

"She's just a girl. This is not going to work. You'll all end up dead, or worse. You can't just mess around with a Daedric Prince, they have powers neither you nor your cousin can control."

"I've got no other choice."

"No Apprentice can do that kind of magick. None. And no normal mage, for that matter. This is dark, dangerous."

"But…" Kara faltered. _Why would she think she could?_

"You love her, don't you? She's family?"

Kara nodded. "Yes, of course."

"You'd die to protect her?"

"_Yes_. What are you-"

"Good. She may need you." He took a deep breath, hesitating. "Kara, beware. I know she's family, but perhaps she may not be who you think she is. Think on it."

_Think on it. Like I don't know my own flesh and blood!_ "You don't know what you're talking about," Kara said, her voice fierce.

Enthir just nodded. "You'll know before the end."

Brynjolf didn't look rattled. "Yes, well, if we don't get out of here soon, _this_ will be the end. Enthir, the Guild will pay you back. Now let's go."

Brynjolf had just wrenched Kara from Enthir's grip when the footsteps on the stairs suddenly stopped. All three of them turned to look. Mirabelle was standing there, gaping, lost for words.


	8. The Only Good Daedra Is A Dead Daedra

Mirabelle raised a finger, pointing at them.

Kara glanced between the mage and Brynjolf, before making a decision. Reaching behind her into a fold she'd cut in the back of her robes, she pulled her dagger out. In one motion, she tossed the jar to Brynjolf, who caught it out of instinct. She grabbed Enthir by the collar. He was taller than her, but she'd caught him by surprise. She pressed her dagger to his throat.

"Keep quiet, or I'll kill him." She jerked her head towards the well. "Who's down there looking for us?"

"Drevis."

"Tell him to get lost."

Mirabelle cleared her throat, before shouting. "They're not up here, Drevis! Why don't you go search the courtyard?"

"Yes, Mirabelle!"

Kara waited until she heard the door downstairs, before turning her attention back to Mirabelle. "Right. Get away from the staircase. Move over there, against the wall. And if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your hands to yourself. Got it?"

Mirabelle nodded, slowly moving to the right. "What are you people doing here?"

"None of your business. Brynjolf, keep an eye on her. She starts to cast, cut off her hands."

He looked briefly alarmed, before nodding. "Aye, lass. They'll, er... look lovely on my mantelpiece."

Kara leaned in, whispering. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want her to think you were part of this. Now, I don't know if Eiri can truly do the ritual or not, but you know what? I don't care. If I have to kill a thousand daedra and all of their Princes, I will, if that means I can protect my family. Understand?"

Enthir nodded stiffly. Half-dragging him, she moved closer to the staircase, eyes still on Mirabelle. The Breton woman was eyeing Brynjolf's axe with trepidation.

"Now, I'm going to let you go. Prepare yourself." Looking up, she grinned at Mirabelle and said loudly, "The Thieves Guild sends its greetings." She shoved Enthir as hard as she could towards Mirabelle. She waited just long enough to see them both stumble, before she grabbed Brynjolf by the arm and tore up the stairs.

"What the hell did you go and do that for?" Brynjolf was shouting, as they thundered up two flights of stairs. "You don't run with thieves, remember?"

"I'm running with you, aren't I?" she snapped. "Maybe we should discuss this later, when we _aren't_ running."

There was a door waiting for them at the top of the stairs. Kara threw it open, the two of them spilling onto the roof. The winds had picked up again, dragging Kara's hair across her face. Shoving it away, she leaned against the battlements, looking down into the courtyard. Fumbling with the sheath at her back, she slid her dagger back in place and started pulling the coiled rope out of her bag.

Brynjolf ran an anxious hand through his hair, watching her. "What are you doing? None of this was part of the plan."

"No, the rope was for emergencies, but I'm just playing by ear now." She tied off one end of the rope to three of her arrows, knotting them together. Holding the arrows under one arm, she pulled her bow free and nocked them. "Hold the door, please."

"You can't seriously think that's going to hold us!"

"Well, we'll find out. Brynjolf, the door." She closed her left eye, sighting one of the wooden doors below. _The wind, the rope… This one's going to be tough._ She took a deep breath. Let it out.

Something slammed against the door. Brynjolf grunted. "Lass?"

In, out. In, out.

"Lass!"

The string hummed as she released. The arrows spun wildly with the rope tied to them, sinking farther, faster, than she would have liked. They met their mark, though, sinking into the wooden door down below. Slinging her bow back on, she tied the other end of the rope to the stone battlement in front of her, knotting it securely.

"Brynjolf, it's time to go!"

"But the door-"

"Move!"

He did as she said. As soon as he stepped aside, she cast a basic shield charm. "Okay, come on."

"You sure this will hold us?"

"No. Look, if I die, you should know-"

"No time." He gave her a leg up.

She wavered on the edge, suddenly dizzy, fingernails digging into the stone as a particularly fierce gust of wind blew past. It was a long way down. Still, Brynjolf was right - there was no time to think, no time to hesitate. Turning, she lowered herself down, gripping the edge of the battlement tightly, her body dangling. Taking a deep breath, she reached out one hand for the rope. It sagged precariously, but the arrows held. Grabbing it with both hands, she began working her way down, hand over hand. Already, her arms ached.

When the rope sagged even more and she heard muttered curses behind her, she knew Brynjolf was following. By then, the ward would have faded - she had neither the patience nor focus for it at the moment - and the door would have opened. Kara looked back once, just to see, and instantly regretted it. Mirabelle was standing there, along with Enthir and a Dunmer that Kara took to be Drevis. Mirabelle looked far too happy for her own good.

"Brynjolf-" was all she managed, before the rope suddenly went slack, sending them to the ground still ten feet below them. She let out one shriek, before letting go of the rope, tucking her body into a roll as she hit the dirt in the courtyard. Brynjolf hit the ground behind her, coughing and cursing.

Gingerly, Kara climbed to her feet. Her right arm was on fire, and it hurt to take a breath. "Brynjolf, the jar!"

"It's fine, lass," he choked out, right behind her. "Let's go!"

A fireball sailed past her ear, singeing off some of her hair. Brynjolf grabbed her hand and pulled; blindly, ducking her head, she followed. By then, some of the other mages had surfaced, no doubt having heard her scream: they were pouring out of doors, including the one she had shot, and voices were ringing around them. There was a stitch in Kara's side and a pain so sharp she nearly screamed again, but then they were on the walkway and Brynjolf was pulling open a trapdoor and pushing her inside and suddenly it was dark, so dark, and everything went quiet.

* * *

A hand slapping her woke her. She lashed out instinctively, shoving someone away from her.

"All right, point taken, lass. But we've got to go, they'll be following us for sure."

Kara opened her eyes, and suddenly everything was aflame. She clenched her teeth, sitting up, clutching her ribs. She looked around. She was ass-deep in a mound of snow. Stone walls surrounded them, grimy and dark. Water dripped from the ceiling, and the air had a certain musty stench to it.

"We're underground? Fucking perfect. Why are we always underground?"

Brynjolf held a hand out to her, and she took it, letting him hoist her up. Her vision blurred for a second, and she had to stand very still and take some deep breaths before she could glare at him again. "Where are we?"

"Someplace called the Midden. Dunno what that means, but it doesn't look very nice."

"A dungeon, is what it looks like. Mages," she sneered, shaking her head. "Them and their secrets."

"Come on, we've got to go."

Nodding, Kara limped along after Brynjolf down a corridor, pulling off her bow as she did. The corridor opened to a room, the two of them standing on a ledge. Taking the stairs down, they discovered several threadbare carpets and crates, full of old supplies. They were just heading out, towards another staircase, when something caught Kara's eye. She stopped dead.

She wasn't even very religious, but there was no other way to express what she was seeing. "Gods above."

Brynjolf appeared beside her. "What?"

She pointed mutely. In a small niche, there was a chair, and behind it on the wall were chains and shackles. Covering the floor, chair, and back wall was blood, old and new, darker in places, embedded into the very stone. On the floor, beside the chair, were some bones.

Brynjolf was the first to speak. "That's sick."

"No wonder nobody trusts these people. Come on." She soldiered on, taking the lead. She felt much colder afterwards.

They passed through a room full of columns, one filled with crates, one filled with snow, before reaching a large, lofty area that looked lived in, with a cupboard, a table with several chairs, and a broom leaning against the wall. Immediately Kara nocked an arrow, sinking into a painful crouch, peering around corners. Brynjolf had long since thrown away the axe, and pulled out his daggers instead, following close at her heels.

"See anyone?"

"No. But what is _that_?" She lowered her bow, jerking her chin ahead of them.

In a well-lit alcove to the right of the table, there was large circle on the ground, covered in glowing green marks. A thin mist hung over it, making the candles flicker.

"I don't know. Some sort of summoning circle?"

A shiver raced down Kara's spine. "This whole place is giving me the creeps. Let's get out of here, okay?"

"Yeah."

Kara put her arrow away, following Brynjolf up a nearby staircase. She stopped him at the top, however. "We can get out of here, right?"

"Yes! Enthir told me about this place once. It's just…farther."

"Farther? How much farther?"

"Should just be up here…"

There was another room, another twisting corridor, and then - a door. Kara could've kissed him. She hobbled past him, pushing it open with an exuberant smile. The smile died on her face when she looked down into a solid wall of black, darkness unending.

"Brynjolf, have I ever told you how much I hate you?"

She didn't want to go down there, and was practically on the verge of tears when he tried to make her. Realizing that she wouldn't be alone made the fear abate some and in the end, she relented, keeping a flame flickering in her palms to give them light. It added to the aches and pains, but if it kept the darkness at bay, she was willing to do it. They walked for what felt like hours, past strange skeletal designs hung on the walls, smashed crates, and spiderwebs. At one point, they came to a fork in their path; Kara went left, but there was only a locked door that couldn't be picked open. They passed an alchemy lab in the right corridor; Kara snatched a book off it in the half-light, sliding it in her bag to bring to Eiri.

Just thinking about Eiri made her wonder about what Enthir had said. _He could be wrong_, she tried to tell herself, desperate to maintain some sort optimism, though her hope was running dangerously low. _Come on, he's probably a highly-skilled mage. Surely he knows what he's talking about._

_But what if he's wrong?_

The next room they entered was full of bones. Kara held her breath nearly the entire time as they crunched their way through, on to another door that filled Kara with joy, thinking it was the exit, before promptly snuffing it out.

It felt like decades. Up stairs, down stairs, around corners, through corridors, over snow, beneath icicles, over bridges, through doors that led to more and more and more, a veritable labyrinth of darkness and cold. Every breath Kara took stabbed into her, and her legs were trembling violently, threatening to stop working with every step she took.

Her breaking point came when they descended yet another staircase to a circular room with a dirt floor. Two stone rings encircled a strange pedestal in the center of the room. Brynjolf edged around it, refusing to step in the circles, but Kara stopped at the very edge.

"What is that?"

"Better not to find out, lass. C'mon."

Kara ignored him. There was a strange whispering, soft and heady, surrounding her. "What?"

"What?"

"Did you say something?"

"I told you to come on. Let's go."

"But the whispering..." She squinted, trying to see what it was in the center of the circles. She took a half-step forward, reaching her hand out. The whispers got louder. She couldn't say why, but she suddenly felt that she had to know what was on the pedestal. Something glowing in the middle of it only confirmed it, the strange magnetism pulling her forward. She stepped into the outer circle.

"Lass, what are you doing?"

It took her two steps to cross into the inner circle, but it didn't feel like her. She felt like she was floating along, watching it happen to someone else, helpless to stop it. On the pedestal, there was a hand rising up, fingers open. It was black, its joints spiny, the fingers ending in claw-like points. A symbol burned orange in the palm.

"Lass, I don't want to scare you, but there's blood on the floor by you. Some bones, too."

"It's…strange, isn't it?" When she spoke, her own voice sounded faraway, small in the large room.

"What's strange?"

"It's so beautiful…" Kara reached up, tracing the outline of the hand.

"Don't touch that, lass."

"But I have to…"

"Kara!" Brynjolf sounded as though he was shouting at her underwater.

Carefully, she folded her own flaming palm against the glowing symbol, entwining her fingers with those of the bodiless hand. Immediately, the fingers folded down, trapping her hand, the points of the fingers digging into her skin. Pain seared through her, and she cried out, squeezing her eyes shut as images flashed through her mind, burning into the back of her eyelids.

_Fire. Blood. Bloodfire. Screaming, screaming, bones, little bones, little children, roaring, World-Eater. Torches thrown through colorful windows, crashing, burning, banners turning to ash. Coughing in the middle of the night, hacking blood into a field of white. Blue flowers growing on a hillside grave, blowing in the wind. A laughing man wrapping his arm around a skinny girl with dark hair, telling her things would work out, that he was always there for her, five hundred and twenty-four stones, the flies were in her eyes and mouth, choking her, she tried to scream but-_

A dark voice, full of malice and sounding like grinding stone filled her mind. "You reach for darkness, mortal, it is all you know. Show me your mind. Let me taste your fear."

_A woman hurrying along a dark road, hooded and cloaked, looking over her shoulder. A man sat in a cell, head in his hands. A cottage overrun by vines sat in a clearing, orange sun of late afternoon turning it to gold. A baby cried and cried, a door slamming, a blade, a sword in the darkness, glowing, a beacon. A figure stood before her, a bearded man, a dragon, back and forth, both and neither, holding an hourglass. One drop of blood fell inside it, landing in the sand, making it glow, bursting into flame._

"Dragon-child, I will devour your heart. Let go."

Wordlessly, Kara shook her head. She felt like her skin was about to split.

"Let go."

"No, I-I-"

_A chunk of wood in her mouth, splinters in her teeth, sweat pooling, the smell of flesh, burning, burning, all pain, never-ending, and the smell of blue flowers, blue flowers that only grow in-_

"LET GO!"

_"NO!"_

Kara screamed until her throat was raw, but suddenly the pain lessened, and she was falling backwards, tumbling into nothingness.

* * *

"…and though you are a rather slight girl, even the lightest of burdens make a man weary after seventy staircases and a bloody ice wraith attack, so I'm going to need you to wake up and start walking on your own."

Cold. Wet cold, bone cold. Shrieking.

"No? All right, then. I hate to do this lass, but we need to get out of here."

Her head moved, tilting back. A cold rim touched her bottom lip, and liquid poured into her mouth. She was parched, but the liquid, whatever it was, tasted like…

"Rat…piss…"

Brynjolf laughed, sounding relieved. "Yeah, I know it's awful, but we've got to get you up. I can't carry you, not anymore."

Kara opened her eyes, glaring at him through slits. "Some strong guy _you_ are."

"It's not a matter of strength, lass. Merely one of what's possible and what isn't. You think you can sit up?"

As she hadn't eaten in gods-knew-how-long, the potion worked its way into her blood quickly. The radiating pain faded to the background and she nodded, slowly attempting it. Brynjolf placed a hand against her back, helping her up as she opened her eyes fully, taking in their surroundings.

They were sitting on a snowy ledge in a cave, looking at a four foot drop. Light spilled in from the opening. Kara had never been happier to hear the wind in her entire life. She made a move to stand, but faltered.

"What happened to me?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. It was like I wasn't even there. You grabbed that hand, and then-"

Kara could see it all, over and over again, a barrage of sights and sounds pelting her mind, each one wearing away at her resistance. She buckled, leaning against Brynjolf. "So stupid," she gasped, eyes tearing up from the pain. "I am so stupid. I should never have gone near it."

"I don't think you could help yourself much, lass. Besides, it's over and done with, we can talk about it more later. For now, we need to get you out of here."

He helped her to her feet, before jumping down off the ledge. She was too tired to care about the hands on her hips as she jumped down into his arms, still in too much pain, despite the potion, to worry about just how much she really owed the Nord beside her. They staggered out of the cave entrance, onto a snowy outcropping. Night had fallen and the storm had returned, enclosing them in a strange world of dark and light. Dressed only in her torn blue robes, she wrapped her arms around herself, squinting against the snow.

"Where are we?" she shouted over the wind.

Brynjolf pointed up. She looked, staring up at a rocky formation, the College sprawled precariously atop it. They were to the left of the bridge, meaning Winterhold was directly ahead of them, though Kara could only guess, unable to see. Supporting her with one arm, Brynjolf helped her down the edge of the rocks, and together they limped their way to Winterhold.

By then, news of their exploits had no doubt reached the town, and the guards would be searching for them. They skirted around the edges of buildings, sticking to the shadows until they were clear, making for their stash spot near the road leading in. Beneath the log, where she had left it, was her leather armor. While Brynjolf kept watch by a cluster of trees closer to the road, she shucked her robes as fast as she could with her body trembling from cold, and pulled her armor on over her undershirt. The moment her bracer touched her right arm, pain seized her. She bent double at the waist, hissing through clenched teeth. She wanted to look at the sabre cat wounds, but she was afraid of what she might see. Trying to force the smarting down, she stuffed the robes beneath the log, sliding the circlet into her bag, before stumbling after Brynjolf.

Surprisingly, their horses were still waiting, tied up outside the Frozen Hearth. Sneaking over, Brynjolf deftly untied them, leaving his axe on the ground where they'd stood before leading them into the trees. Kara managed to pull herself up in her saddle, but barely had the energy to nudge her horse forward. It acted of its own volition, following Brynjolf and his horse up the road, while she sat heavy in the saddle, each step bringing some new ache to light.

Rather than taking the road this time, Brynjolf veered off into the woods, their horses stumbling over rocks and hills. "There could be guards on the road looking for us. No doubt they think we'll head to Windhelm or Dawnstar, so we need to stay out of sight."

Kara didn't answer. She was finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. They followed a river flowing southwest through a gap in the mountains, riding as far as The Pale, before doubling back at Lake Yorgrim, where the river forked, leading them to Windhelm, back into Eastmarch. For hours, they rode against the cold, Brynjolf occasionally yelling back to ask if she was all right. Her answers grew more feeble as the night wore on.

They reached Windhelm just before dawn, the sky lighting to a dull gray. The snow had stopped falling, but the wind kept up, burning Kara's hands raw. She was slumped forward in her saddle by the time they returned to Hollyfrost Farm. Brynjolf slid off his horse easily, patting it on the neck. The horse was tired and seemed happy to be rid of its rider, as it trotted over to a trough full of half-frozen food. The Nord who had helped them came out of his small house, wiping his hands on his shirt. He spoke quickly with Brynjolf, before glancing at Kara. He pointed at her just in time for her to close her eyes and fall sideways, right off the horse.

"Kara!" Suddenly Brynjolf was next to her, shaking her awake. Her eyelids fluttered open briefly, trying to focus, but there was more than one of him. He placed a hand against her forehead, then her cheek. "Gods, lass, you're burning up. C'mon, up you get." He hauled her to her feet, throwing one arm over his shoulders, and pulling her along.

With her practically comatose, it was a long walk back to the main road. The sun had just crested the edge of the mountains on the horizon, when Brynjolf shuffled past the horses still half-asleep in their stables. He stood her up as best he could just before the bridge into the city. She drooped against him, and he had to straighten her, turning around so they were back to back. He locked his arms with hers, muttering under his breath. Her knees were just above to give out when she felt the familiar tingling, starting at the top of her head this time, and cascading down her body. The moment it encased her toes, they both glowed a blinding white, and the sights around her began to blur.

They landed in the Ragged Flagon with a resounding thud. Someone shrieked in surprise and several chairs shoved back, scraping against the stone floor. Kara collapsed, hitting the ground painfully, some feeling jarring back into her. She heard voices, but they faded in and out, leaving her like everything else. Somebody picked her up, and a sense of weightlessness was the last thing she felt before slipping away.

* * *

**So I know that arrow thing defies physics but you know what? Skyrim has dragons and magic, so physics can eat me. Thanks again to all my reviewers! I know things got weird in this chapter, but all will eventually be revealed :)**


	9. Nobody Puts Kara In The Corner

It was summer, the very middle of Sun's Height. They were gathered at a clearing just outside the Imperial City, full of thick grass and sweet-smelling flowers, heads bobbing in a refreshing breeze. Kara's mother was setting up a bountiful picnic, humming to herself, as her father and his friends presented her with her birthday gift: her very own bow.

"Ooh, for _me_?"

"For you, my girl! Seven is a perfect age to get your own weapon." They had painted a target on a rotting stump, rolling it to rest thirty feet away from her. He plunked the bow and an arrow in her hands, showing her how to use it. "Go on, little one, fire away!"

Kara pulled the string hard as far back as she could, her arm shaking, struggling to hold it at her cheek. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she closed one eye and shot. The arrow missed the target entirely.

Her father's friends laughed uproariously behind her. She lowered the bow, still too big for her, flushing scarlet. She stared at the ground fixedly, lip quivering.

"Oy, shut up, you lot!" Footsteps approached, and a figure bent down beside her. The tangy scent of rosemary filled her nose, and she sniffled. "Hey. Don't listen to those fools. You can do this. Do you understand me?"

Kara nodded, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

"All right. Here you go, love." He handed her another arrow, helping her nock it. "Now, pull it back. Hold tight, there's a good girl. Sight your target, there you are. Take a deep breath and…release!"

Kara did as he said, letting her breath out and releasing. There was a definitive _thwack_ as she hit the white outer ring of the target, and the men behind them cheered. Kara's face broke out into a grin, as she looked up at her father. He was smiling proudly at her, and he patted her head.

"That's my girl. Now-" He broke off, as one of his friends approached, whispering in his ear. He listened, his face expressionless, before he nodded. Smiling at Kara, he nudged her in the direction of her mother, kneeling under a nearby tree. "Go see your mother, will you? Show her your brand new present."

"'Kay!" Kara ran, clutching the bow like her life depended on it. "Mama, look! Look what I got!"

"Nine Divines, is that a _bow_? I swear, I will kill that man. I _told_ him… Well, come here, little one, let me see that." Kara handed the bow to her. Her mother frowned, inspecting the weapon with a critical eye, muttering to herself.

Kara looked away, to where her father was standing. He was surrounded by his friends, talking to a little man who had arrived on a horse from the main road, not far from their picnic. The little man was saying something, but it seemed to make her father angry; he grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him, the little man throwing his hands up as if to ward off an attack.

By then, her mother had noticed. She stood beside Kara, still holding the bow. "Now what is _he_ doing here?" she murmured.

Her father and his friends loped over the grass, stopping in front of Kara and her mother. "We've got to go."

Kara's mother scowled, her mouth a thin line. "It's her _birthday_, Hrokr."

"It's business, Lora, I'm sorry. We'll be back later." He stooped to kiss the top of Kara's head. "Happy Birthday, love."

She watched him walk away, her mother muttering angrily beside her. Without any warning, Kara ripped the bow out of her mother's hands. She squawked, lunging to catch Kara, but she was too fast, sprinting away across the field.

"Wait! Take me with you!"

Her father's friends chuckled, stopping to look back at the skinny young thing following them.

"I have my bow, take me with you! I can help!"

Her father dropped to one knee to meet her. "Oh, I know you can, love. But you can't come with us, not yet. Not until you're a little bit older."

"But _why_?"

"Seven is old enough for a weapon, but not quite old enough to come along. I promise, one day I will take you with me. Now run back to your mother, there's a good girl."

The memory dissolved as Kara's eyes filled with tears and she clutched the longbow to her chest, vowing to never love something so much as her bow, and to be the best, so her father would return and take her away with him, for she wanted nothing more than to be just like him.

* * *

Kara woke to the sound of someone singing softly. Each limb seemed to remember its purpose, coming back to life with stiffness, with tingling. Her head felt cloudy, stuffed with wool, but she felt…better. Rested._ Alive._

She opened her eyes. It was all dark, save for one candle burning low on a small table to her left. She was resting on a bed, buried beneath a mound of blankets. Eiri sat beside her, head down, sewing some dark material. She was singing, occasional dropping the words to hum. On the right, there were two cupboards, blocking wherever she was from sight. The atmosphere felt familiar, though; with a recognizable feeling of anxiety, she realized they were underground.

"Where am I?" Kara's voice was rusty, her throat sore.

Eiri jumped so high, she nearly fell from her chair. She dropped whatever it was she'd been sewing, gasping, standing up so fast that she knocked the chair over. "Oh, you're finally awake! How do you feel?"

"Like I've been beaten by a troll, ripped limb from limb, put back together, and beaten again." She started to sit up, but the room swam before her eyes.

Eiri swooped in, helping her with gentle hands. "Easy, now. You've gone through quite a lot in the last few days." She bit her lip, as Kara managed to lean against the small headboard behind her.

"What do you mean? How long was I out?"

"Two days. When you and Brynjolf teleported back here, you were delirious, burning with fever from an infection on your arm. If that had gotten any worse, I might've had to amputate." The very word seemed to make her sick, as she stooped to pick up whatever she'd dropped. "Why didn't you say something? You must have felt it."

"Because I…" Kara trailed off. She looked down, realizing for the first time that she was only wearing her smallclothes. Her right arm had been bandaged from palm to elbow, and it felt awkward to move around. She looked sharply at Eiri. "Tell me everything that happened."

Eiri's face turned stony. "You first. I need to know everything, in case we encounter any…setbacks."

"Fine. On the way to Winterhold, we were attacked by a sabre cat. The thing knocked me from my horse, and in the fight, I got slashed and I hit my head. Brynjolf, he-" She paused. "He's okay, right?"

Eiri nodded, waving her worries away with an impatient hand. "Yes. No doubt he's sleeping, though I'm surprised Mercer let him back in after he found out."

"Wait, Mercer _knows_?"

"Forget Mercer. Tell me what else happened!"

Kara stared at her cousin evenly, frowning, before she relented. "Okay. Brynjolf saved my life, and after he fixed me up a bit, we made our way to Winterhold. We got there safely and managed to infiltrate the College - I used a little bit of magick, even though it hurt like hell - and we found Enthir. He gave us a fresh heart but he…" The elf's words came back to Kara, as she glanced down at the blanket.

"What?"

"But then we had to run for our lives from some crazy mages, and I think I broke my ribs in a fall. Anyway, we went through this trapdoor that Enthir told us about, and ended up in this place called the Midden. It was horrible, Eiri, like a dungeon. It was a labyrinth of twisting passages and awful things, and we-we-" The image of the hand and its effects on her were still fresh in her mind. "We ran into some trouble."

Eiri's eyes narrowed. "Define trouble."

"I touched something," Kara mumbled, avoiding the younger girl's piercing blue eyes.

"And that would be…?"

"A daedric artifact, maybe. It was shaped like a hand. I don't know anything else."

"I see. So you just grabbed something that looked like it might be daedric, without knowing what it does, and not knowing what the consequences would be."

Slowly, Kara nodded.

"Are you suffering from _Brain Rot_, by any chance?" Eiri hissed, leaning forward. She looked angrier than Kara had ever seen her, including the time that Kara had set her favorite doll on fire when they were children. "You could have been killed - or worse, sent to Oblivion!"

"Would I still be alive? Because that sounds better than death."

Eiri gaped, her eyes wide as saucers. "You - you are so _stupid_!"

"Well, what about you? You're about to go up against a Daedric Prince, and you don't think that's stupid?"

"Not the point!" Eiri took a deep breath, obviously trying to calm down. "Keep going," she finally said. "What happened?"

"Then I…"

She wanted to tell Eiri about the vision; if anyone could help Kara decode it, it'd be her mageling cousin. Something, however, held her back. The things she had been seeing lately, in nightmares and visions both, were her fears, her memories from times long ago. That was the thing about real fear - it crawled into secret places and made them its own; it was all-encompassing, overwhelming, _private_. She couldn't just come out and tell Eiri that she was being haunted by ghosts from her past, especially since some of the things the hand had shown her were not fears or memories, but mysteries - things she had never seen before, things she took to possibly be the future. Just thinking the idea made her feel silly. _Me, clairvoyant?_ She almost snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. But if they weren't visions of the present or past - what were they?

Eiri seemed to take Kara's long silence for pain. She reached out and touched Kara's arm lightly, snapping her back to their conversation. "Hey," Eiri said softly. "It's all right if you don't want to talk about it. The daedra-"

"I passed out," Kara interrupted firmly. "That's all I remember."

Eiri looked almost disappointed, before she nodded. "All right. Then what?"

"Brynjolf said something about carrying me the rest of the way out." She smiled faintly. "Fought an ice wraith, too, from the sounds of it." There were just some things in the world that you couldn't go through together without becoming friends. Kara had a feeling this was one of them, feeling a sudden rush of gratitude for the mouthy Nord. He'd saved her life many times in their brief acquaintance, and if that didn't breed at least some semblance of trust, she didn't know what did.

"So you got out, and…?"

"We were on this kind of cliff, underneath the College. We managed to stumble out of there, before heading back to Windhelm. And that's when I really started feeling sick about my arm," Kara finished lamely.

"But it had been hurting you beforehand, yes?"

Hesitantly, she nodded.

Eiri bristled again. "And you didn't tell Brynjolf _because_…?"

"The scar," Kara muttered, holding up her right arm. "The scar, idiot. I didn't want - I just thought-"

"Well, none of that matters now. He's seen it."

"WHAT?"

"Yes," Eiri said, nodding serenely. "He cleared this space for me in here immediately, bringing in a bed. Tonilia helped me get you out of your clothes, and when I tore off your shirt, we all saw the cuts." She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "It was awful, Kara, the pus, and the _smell_ coming off them... You should be ashamed of yourself."

"And he _saw_?"

Eiri nodded. "Tonilia, too. It was impossible not to, once I'd cleaned the cuts up and some of the redness and swelling had gone down."

"And? What did they do? What did they say?" Kara's thoughts raced. Did they look down on her, knowing now what she had strived to keep hidden? No doubt they thought her a fool. _And why shouldn't they? I was. Still am._

"They kind of just exchanged a look. I told them I needed to work, and they left me alone to tend to you. Tonilia and Vekel came by every now and again after that, to ask if I needed anything, for you or for me. Brynjolf came by once after that, to let me know about Mercer-"

"He heard what I did, didn't he?"

Eiri nodded sympathetically. "He was _furious_. He was more angry that they tried to hide it from him than the fact Brynjolf brought in what Mercer calls 'outsiders.' Now he's to be included. He came by once, to see you, but I think he wanted to see if you were going to live more than anything. It's hard to tell with a man like him, but I think he might be impressed with you."

"Is Brynjolf mad?"

Eiri shrugged. "I'm not sure. He's been over here to see you a couple of times, but he doesn't talk. He just sits, waits, and then leaves." When Kara fell silent, Eiri went on. "Why didn't you want him to know about your scar?"

"It's not just him. I don't want _anyone_ to know about it. I already have to live with the daily reminder of what I did, who I was; I don't need everyone else reminded of it, too."

Eiri watched Kara for a minute, before nodding. "I suppose I can understand that. But I think these are probably the people least likely to judge you in all of Skyrim." Her grin was fleeting. "For that, anyway."

Kara made a half-hearted gesture that she hoped suggested indifference. "I guess you're right. Now tell me what else."

"Okay. After I fixed your ribs and your arm, you were out of immediate danger. At least, I thought so anyway, for a time."

"What do you mean? Why did everyone seem so sure I was going to die?"

"Well, probably because of this." Eiri reached for Kara's right hand, pulling at some of the linen wrapped around her palm. She unraveled it up to Kara's wrist, before holding it up to show her. "You started having nightmares the first day, and this began to glow, like fire."

There was a raised contusion on Kara's palm, still red and smarting when the air hit it. It was in the shape of the mark that had been on the palm of the daedric hand.

Kara's eyes widened. "It-"

"Burned you, yes." Eiri sighed heavily, rewrapping her hand, though less carefully this time. It was only then that Kara noticed the bags under Eiri's eyes, and how exhausted she really looked. "I don't know what this means. All I know is that you've been branded, again. You have the mark of a daedra on you."

"What do you mean? What symbol is that?"

"Oblivion," Eiri said softly, her fingers lingering over Kara's palm. Clearing her throat, she looked up, her eyes looking bruised. "I think you'll be fine. But until we know more, be wary."

Be wary. _Beware_. Again, Kara thought of Enthir. What if this was all a mistake? Eiri began fussing with her bandages, murmuring about changing them. Kara watched her, smiling fondly. Same old Eiri, helping others before herself. An admirable quality, but an exhausting one.

"How long has it been since you last slept?" Kara asked.

"What kind of healer would I be if I wasn't here to check on you?" Eiri grumbled. Still, she smiled ruefully. "A while. I should, but you're first. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Kara was ravenous. The two of them ate together, Eiri chatting happily about what had gone on while Kara and Brynjolf were gone, as though nothing bad had happened at all. She plagued Kara for information on what the infamous Mages College had looked like, and Kara took that moment to lean over and pull her bag from where it had been stashed beneath the bed and give Eiri the books she'd filched. At first, Eiri seemed hesitant, but once Kara started reading aloud from them, she snatched them away and began eagerly flipping through them. Setting them down on the table, she leaned over and hugged Kara, being careful of her arm and ribs.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For everything."

Kara's face suddenly felt hot, her eyes prickling. She pulled away, hiding her face with her hair momentarily, while Eiri oohed and aahed over whatever was in the tomes. As covertly as she could, Kara wiped at her eyes. Flipping her hair back over her shoulder, she tilted her head, getting her first actual glimpses of the titles of the second book. _De Rerum Dirennis_. Combined with _Azura and the Box, n_either title seemed forgiving to Kara, but as long as Eiri was happy, she didn't mind. Although…

Watching Eiri, Kara could see there was something like mania in her glee. Her eyes were bright, color high in her normally fair cheeks. She looked almost feverish, greedy. Kara felt strange, unsure of what she was seeing. This was something else. _She_ was someone else. Was it possible for someone to be two different people, for her cousin to be the same girl she had once been _and _the stranger that was sitting beside her now?

_This can't wait any longer._ "Eiri?"

"Hm?"

Kara set her empty bowl down on her lap, reaching up with her left hand to push down the book in Eiri's hands. Eiri looked up questioningly, letting the book fall shut. Kara didn't even know where to start.

"Look, while we were at the College…"

"Yes?"

"Enthir stopped me before we left. Told me some things."

Eiri still smiled, but something changed in her eyes. "About me. About what I want to do."

"How did you know?"

"He's clearly an experienced mage; why _wouldn't _he warn you about the dangers?"

Kara nodded. "Point taken."

"So what did he say?"

"He said it was dark magick. He said that no apprentice can do this sort of thing." _He said you may not be who I think you are. And I'm starting to suspect..._

Eiri made a dismissive gesture. "Oh, it isn't _that_ bad-"

"He seemed to think it was. It sounded very advanced, very dangerous."

"I can do it," Eiri said fiercely.

Kara felt a measure of pride, smiling. "I love your faith in your abilities, and I know you _want_ to be able to do it, but-"

Eiri's blue eyes turned frosty, her voice hard. "I know what I'm doing, Kara."

_...he may be right. _"Do you?"

"Yes." She set the book down on the table beside them and suddenly stood. "I think that's quite enough, now. You need your rest." She reached for Kara's head.

"Eiri, don't-" she started to say, but her cousin's cool fingers were already at her temple, and she was overcome with fatigue. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she drifted back into the arms of sleep once more.


	10. It's Going To Be A Bumpy Night

A loud crash startled Kara awake, dust raining down on her from the roof. The Ragged Flagon was alive with shouts, followed by - to Kara's surprise - the ring of steel. She leaped from bed, rounding the cupboards beside her to find a scene of total disarray: Dirge was on the ground, seemingly out cold; Vekel's nose was spewing blood, Delvin was nowhere to be seen, and Vex and Tonilia were locked in a duel with none other than _Lydia_.

The sounds had drawn Brynjolf and Eiri from wherever they had been. Eiri immediately rushed over to Kara.

"Are you all right?" When Kara nodded she went on. "What's happening here?"

"A misunderstanding." She'd told Lydia to come look for her body, but she'd been _joking_, she hadn't thought Lydia would actually do it, especially since she was still alive. Kara stepped forward, over Dirge's prone body. "Hey! Can we stop this for a minute?"

Nobody heard her. Tonilia ducked low and tried to get Lydia in the side with a dagger, but she was wearing her steel armor, and it simply skated off the surface with a ring.

Kara scowled. "HEY!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. Her voice echoed around the sewers, reverberating back to her tenfold.

The duel paused, all combatants looking at her. Everyone's eyes widened, their mouths hanging open. Kara's scowl turned to one of confusion; she looked down and yelped, realizing she was still only wearing her smallclothes. Brynjolf made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a choke.

"Okay, hang on - don't kill each other!" Grabbing Eiri, she dragged her back behind the cupboards.

After her cousin helped her change into freshly laundered clothes, maneuvering her wrapped arm through a sleeve, the two of them rejoined the others. Dirge was still passed out, but Tonilia was tending to Vekel's face. Eiri went to help her. Lydia sent Kara an accusatory glare, eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything. In fact, it was eerily quiet; it was only after she looked around at everyone gathered that she realized why.

Standing between Brynjolf and the now-present Delvin was a man Kara had never seen before. He was slightly shorter than Brynjolf and much older, though he still had a certain vivacity to him, a strength that lay under the surface, evident from his fierce eyes. His face was covered in several days worth of stubble, and his unkempt grey hair fell to just above his shoulders. His brows were furrowed in a scowl as he spoke in a low voice to his guild mates - for she had no doubt that the man she was staring at was none other than Mercer.

As if he could feel her gaze, he suddenly broke off, turning to look at her. His scowl didn't ease up. Brynjolf and Delvin both glanced around as well, looking for the source of the interruption. Kara couldn't look either of them in the eye, but something about Mercer demanded it, and she couldn't look away.

Finally, he marched over to her, stopping several feet away from her. "So. I suppose I have you to thank for this infiltration."

Kara's eyes flicked to Lydia, before back. "I suppose you do."

"Who the hell is she?"

"My housecarl."

It wasn't Mercer who exclaimed, but Tonilia, as she looked up from Vekel. "You're a _Thane_? Of where?"

"Whiterun. Look, it's a long story-"

Mercer rounded on Brynjolf. "I thought you said she was an immigrant. What kind of immigrant is already Thane of a city within two weeks of their stay?"

Eiri was staring now, too. "That's an excellent question. What did you do, Kara?"

"I-I-" The words stuck in her throat, threatening to choke her if she didn't come clean now. She sat down in the nearest chair, looking down at her bandaged arm. "Oh fuck, where do I even begin?"

"I think it's about time we knew the truth, lass," Brynjolf said, speaking for the first time. When she glanced at him, his green eyes were bright. "_All_ of it."

Kara took a deep breath, looking back at the table, at her hands. She'd been marked in so many ways, both visible and invisible, some of the scars going deeper than her skin. There were so many things she'd kept inside, letting them fester and rot, like the cuts on her arm. She remembered what Eiri had told her, about the guild being the least likely people to judge her in Skyrim. Maybe Eiri - and Brynjolf - were both right. Maybe it was time to wash her hands free of the blood that covered them, to rinse out the stains. But would they ever truly be free?

Kara waited until Eiri had taken care of both Vekel and Dirge, who was given permission to leave, and everyone had calmed themselves and taken a seat. Mercer was the only one who remained standing, leaning against the bar, arms folded over his chest.

"Talk," he demanded.

Kara swallowed hard. "I was born here, in Skyrim. My mother was an Imperial trader, my father was a Nord businessman. Or, so he claimed. When I was very young, we relocated to Cyrodiil, my mother's home. Abandoned by her own family, we lived in a tiny shack in the Waterfront District. We were dirt poor, and things were horrible. That's when my father left for the first time."

Delvin looked confused. "Where did he go?"

"Everywhere. For weeks, months at a time, he would vanish. My mother always knew, and every time he left, she would get very emotional. I was still so young at the time, I didn't understand it. Things were so bad when he was gone that my mother and I took to traveling to Bruma, to stay with my father's brother, Harald - Eiri's father. But as I got older and started to ask more questions, the secret came out: my father was the leader of a ring of thieves that hit major cities. He was so convinced of fabled riches and glory that he abandoned his own family and left me to be raised by a woman he'd promised the world." She couldn't help how bitter she sounded. She'd already lived it; to experience it once more was torture.

"I think I remember hearing about them," Mercer said thoughtfully. "Based out of the Imperial City, right?" Kara nodded. "Yeah. There were three. One was all women, another full of Khajiit and Dunmer, and the other one. Small-time jobs, minor crime. What was their name? Crow-something or other."

"The Crow's Nest. It was supposed to be a close-knit group of friends, dreamers like my father, to seek solace and find their fortune. My father's name was Hrokr, which, I guess you know, means-"

"Crow. Clever," Mercer said dryly. "Of course. I remember the other two went belly up first. Then they ran into some trouble a few years back, vanished off the map."

Kara nodded. "My mother died when I was twelve. I went to live with Eiri and her family in Bruma, because my father was gone - in Anvil or somewhere, working a long job with his gang - and I lived there for four wonderful years. I could almost forget that he'd left me behind. Of course, I should have known it wouldn't last. Uncle Harald fell from the roof of the Great Chapel of Talos - though I suppose I should call it the Temple of the Eight Divines now, thanks to the Aldmeri Dominion - and broke his back. He was a stonemason, but after that, he couldn't work and again, we fell on hard times. Then, when I was sixteen, my father arrived out of the blue."

"Let me guess," Vex drawled, "he offered you a way out?"

Kara nodded again. "He promised me when I was a little girl that when I was older, he'd bring me with him. Well, I'd forgotten all about that promise, to be honest, and by that time, I wasn't sure I wanted it. But I fell into his trap, just like my mother did when they met here, twenty years ago." Kara shook her head, frowning. "You just don't know what he's like, my father. He's so charismatic, he always knows the right things to say… He could convince his followers to die for him, if need be, and frankly…" She refused to look at Eiri. "I was tired of being poor. My entire life, it was the same damn thing: loved ones working so hard every day, and still not making enough to provide for their children. It was sickening, knowing that there were people out there sitting on riches and doing nothing worthwhile, hoarding their money and crushing the less fortunate under their feet."

"So she left," Eiri said softly. "I knew it couldn't last, but I felt like I was losing my older sister. She ran off, chasing after her father, doing her damnedest to follow in his stupid footsteps. My parents were so disappointed."

Kara sighed. "What was I supposed to do? The man I'd been wanting around my entire life had come knocking; was I just supposed to say no?"

"He was your father," Tonilia said, shrugging.

"Yeah, but maybe that was my problem. I was so desperate for some recognition, some approval, that I did something stupid." Kara shook her head. "Anyway, we moved back to the Waterfront. He had all these plans to work the Imperial City, said he was tired of traveling and wanted to stay in one place so I could find some sort of stability. Like there's anything stable about being a thief. We started doing jobs everywhere simultaneously, groups of us, before meeting at designated places in the city to switch our goods and stash them until we could sell them. Things started to look up, for a time."

"I'm hearing a but there, curls."

"_But_," Kara said, nodding, "we were betrayed. It all happened so fast. We pulled a job in the Temple District, and we headed to the Arboretum. We'd used it as an exchange place before; that was probably our mistake. It was me, my father, Jona, and Rayce. We were supposed to meet Septimus, Mercutio, Dibella, and Iphigenia. We waited for an hour, looking more and more suspicious. We wanted to go, but my father wanted to stay, to wait. He had such faith in his merry band that he never thought he needed to distrust any of them."

"Stupid," Vex muttered. Brynjolf sent a glare her way, and she shrugged, as if to say, _What?_

"It was stupid," Kara admitted. "But it couldn't be helped at that point. The guards surrounded us before we could escape. They took us to the Arena, shouting through the streets all the while. The Crow's Nest had become quite well-known, and the guards decided to make an example of us. By the time we reached the Arena, half the city had shown up, though it was the middle of the night."

"People are like that," Mercer said, indifferent. "They'll always show up to watch a good slaughter."

"Well, they got what they wanted, then. Septimus and Dibella were nowhere to be found, so we immediately knew who was behind it. They'd made a deal with Acrisius Lex, the captain of the guard, and he let them go in exchange for us. They hung Marcutio in front of everyone. While he was still twitching, they cut Iphigenia's throat."

Tonilia lowered her head into her hands. Everyone but Mercer looked equally as shell-shocked. Eiri shook her head, dumbstruck. "You never told me that."

"Why would I? You were twelve years old. You didn't need to hear that sort of thing."

"But how come you're alive?" Vex asked. When Brynjolf turned to look at her again, she hastily added, "No offense."

"None taken. They had Jona and Rayce up there. Gods know what they planned to do to them. But then suddenly, a figure stepped forward. Couldn't tell if they were a man or a woman, seeing as they wore a cloak and a hood, but they walked over to Acrisius and told him something. I don't know what, but they cut the four of us down, and decided to clap us in irons instead."

Eiri was wide-eyed. "And you don't know who it was?"

"Nope, not at all. They left as quickly as they'd come, and we were a little busy being dragged off to the Imperial prison, so I never got a chance to find out. We were given a trial, though there was no point because everyone knew we were guilty. My father, Jona, and Rayce were sentenced to ten years, but as I was still only sixteen, I was given only three. And then…" She looked down at her arm. "They branded all of us as thieves, and threw us into our cells."

"They…_branded_ you?" Tonilia sounded sick, and even Vex looked a little green. "Like animals?"

"Cyrodiil is different. They are far less tolerant than here, especially after the White-Gold Concordat, with the Dominion breathing down your neck everywhere you go."

When Delvin spoke, he sounded eager. "Can we see it?"

"Ooh, yeah!" Vex exclaimed. "I want to see!"

"Now wait just a minute," Eiri said loudly. "She's under my care, and with all the injuries she's sustained to that arm, I really don't think-"

"It's fine, Eiri. If they want to see so badly, they can."

Everyone crowded in close, except Eiri, Mercer, and Brynjolf. Kara unwrapped the bandages slowly, only to the point where her scar ended, and her cuts began. It was several inches long, just below her elbow. The scar had turned white since then, and it shone in the half-light. It was a capital letter T, the long stroke ending in a dagger's blade, declaring to the world that not only was she a thief, but she was stupid enough to get caught.

"Did it hurt?" Tonilia asked.

"Like Oblivion itself."

After Eiri shooed them away and redid her bandage, Mercer spoke up. "You still haven't told us how this one here became your housecarl."

Kara looked over at Lydia with a start. She'd been so quiet, Kara had almost forgotten about her entirely. She looked shocked, numb. Kara couldn't blame her. She wasn't the only one who had gotten something unexpected out of their arrangement.

"Right. I was released from prison three years later, after quietly going insane. I made a choice to give up that life, since all it ever brought me was trouble, just like my father. I decided to go to the only place I'd ever felt was home: Bruma, to Eiri's family. But when I arrived, I found she had run away, to Skyrim. Her parents begged me to go after her, so I did. I crossed the border pretty easily through Pale Pass, which should have struck me as strange, but didn't. Normally, there are a few guards, checking to make sure you aren't smuggling skooma or anything, but there was no one. I didn't know why at the time, didn't question it. I found out a few minutes later when I was ambushed."

"My, you are unlucky," Delvin said with a chuckle. "By who?"

"Imperials. They'd attacked a group of people, and I was nearby. I tried to escape, but they saw me, and assumed I was with them. I told them I wasn't, but of course, they saw my scar and didn't believe me. I tried telling them my mother's name, since my grandparents had once been quite rich and influential in the Imperial City, but nobody listened. They hit me. I fell, hit my head on a rock, and that was it, light's out. I came to in a wagon on its way to Helgen with three of the men they'd captured. One was a horse-thief named Lokir, mistakenly captured like me. The other two were something called Stormcloaks."

Brynjolf swore. "You got caught up with them?"

Kara nodded. "One was named Ralof, the other was…someone important. Their leader."

His eyes nearly fell out of his head. "You were captured with _Ulfric Stormcloak_?"

"I'm assuming so, since that's what Ralof kept calling him. His mouth was bound. At the time, I didn't know - I might have been born here, but for all purposes, I'm from Cyrodiil - but I learned later, when they were lining us up for the chopping block and some Imperial jackanape was ranting about how he'd murdered your High King."

Eiri had her hands over her mouth. "They were going to _kill you_?" she squeaked.

"Yep. I tried telling them I wasn't part of whatever it was that was going on, but it was like I was suddenly speaking another language. They were just about to cut off my head when…" She broke off, looking around. "Okay, this next bit is going to sound ridiculous. If you think I'm fucking crazy, I will completely understand."

"What happened?" Brynjolf demanded.

"They were about to cut off my head, when a giant black dragon swooped out of the sky and started attacking Helgen."

"Hey," Delvin said, frowning and shaking a finger. "Hey, hold on, I heard about that! Folks in Falkreath have been talking about it almost nonstop."

"It's true," Lydia said, her voice subdued. "The dragons are returning."

"Hey, you're ruining the story!" Kara said. "So, crazy as that sounds, this dragon attacks. The Stormcloak, Ralof, ended up saving my life. We managed to escape Helgen - looking back, I'm not even sure how - before heading to Riverwood, where his family lives. We decided to part ways, since I needed to find Eiri, but then his sister asked me if I could go to Whiterun to ask the Jarl for help. I didn't want to, but I figured if Eiri had gone anywhere, it would be Whiterun."

Eiri nodded. "It's true. I was going to stop in Falkreath, but a Khajiit on the road told me Whiterun was the center of Skyrim. I thought I'd have better luck finding Delvin there."

Delvin grinned toothily at her. Kara continued on.

"Anyway, long story short: I warned the Jarl, Riverwood was sent aid, and just as I was preparing to be on my way, another dragon attacked. I literally could not make this shit up if I tried. The Jarl, deciding for whatever reason, that I'm some sort of mythic warrior, volunteered me to fight it. I didn't want to die, from dragon or otherwise, so I decided it couldn't be that difficult. I went with some of the guards, and I killed it. And then… I absorbed something. Part of it. Its soul, I guess."

The only ones in the room who didn't look surprised were Lydia and Brynjolf. Lydia knew, she'd been there, for the most part, and Brynjolf had pieced it together himself, his theory proved at the College. Everyone else was staring, their eyes wide, mouths hanging open. Kara suddenly flushed. If the black dragon flying over Helgen didn't make them think she was crazy, this would certainly do it.

"You're the _Dragonborn_?" Eiri asked hoarsely.

"You know, I could've been wrong. I mean, there was a swirly light and the dragon sort of disintegrated, but that could have been anything, right?"

"I doubt it, lass. I saw you, remember? When you took down that dragon up top."

"You never mentioned that," Mercer said, frowning at Brynjolf.

"I didn't really know for sure until we got to the College. She had to prove she was Dragonborn to the woman letting us in, and she…Shouted. As in Thu'um."

Delvin smirked, pulling out a knife to clean his fingernails. "Now, I'm not a Nord, but I'm going to guess that means you're Dragonborn, curls."

Everybody began talking at once, their expressions both shocked and intrigued. The noise pressed in on Kara's head, sparking a throbbing behind her eyes. She held up her hands, calling for them to be quiet.

"Okay, _okay. _So it's definitely possible. But so what? What does that even mean?"

"It starts with our history, here," Lydia said, her voice rough. "Ysgramor and his companions settled here, bringing with them their Atmoran beliefs. In those days, it was believed they worshipped the Nine Divines, but as totem animals. They were represented as a snake, moth, owl, bear, fox, whale, wolf, hawk, and the dragon, Akatosh. Dragons were still prevalent during those days, and they delighted in knowing the humans worshiped one of their kind. In fact, they encouraged it. However, their hubris was their downfall: they considered themselves far superior to men, ruling over them with the utmost authority. They even bribed some men, giving them power and knowledge in exchange for obedience. These men became known as dragon priests, akin to kings in their revere. They created laws that kept the peace between men and dragons, for a time."

"How do you know all of this?" Brynjolf asked.

"I am a student of history. Being a housecarl is not simply just defending a Thane with sword and shield. It is far more intensive than any realize."

"Well," Kara said, eyebrows raised. "I'm uh, really glad of that. So what happened next?"

Lydia took a deep breath. "The dragons became tyrannical. Men rebelled, wishing to be free, and the Dragon War began. More to the point of your original question, however, to be Dragonborn means you are imbued with the blood of Akatosh. It is an extraordinary gift. It was once given to the Akaviri, the originators of the historic Blades. They were fabled dragon-hunters during the Dragon War, and they helped Reman Cyrodiil rise to power, and even spread the knowledge that he was the first Dragonborn ruler, but some say that wasn't true, that it was just a rumor to help justify his claim."

"Right," Vex said, nodding. "Pretty much every emperor was Dragonborn. Without the blood, they can't light the Dragonfires and rule. The last great emperor who had the blood was Martin Septim, but he smashed the Amulet of Kings and became the Avatar of Akatosh, transforming into a dragon to defeat Mehrunes Dagon. After he sent Dagon back to Oblivion, he was petrified into a statue. They say it's still there at the Temple of the One. Or, it was." Vex's expression darkened. "Who knows what those damned elves might have done to it?"

"They say Martin Septim was the last, greatest Septim. The blood of the Dragonborn emperors died with him, if he truly did die. But that was all two hundred years ago, in the Third Era," Lydia pointed out. "Who knows what might have happened between now and then? You could be a descendant."

"Oh, please," Vex snapped. "She could not! Martin didn't have any kids."

Lydia stiffened. "And how do you know that?"

"It's in practically every history book about the emperors. Uriel Septim's legitimate sons were all assassinated before they had kids, and Martin was a priory brother before the Hero of Kvatch found him. The Septim line ended with him. That's it." Vex almost grinned. "It's a shame, though. If you were the lost empress of Cyrodiil, you could've erased some of those outstanding warrants I've got."

"I can't believe this," Eiri said, shaking her head. "I just…I can't believe this."

Lydia was still scowling when she turned her attention to the younger girl. "And why not? It is not so unheard of. All Nords are capable of mastering the Thu'um, it is just incredibly difficult. For those who are Dragonborn, it's simpler."

"Yes, but she's not just _a_ Dragonborn, that's the point. She's _the_ Dragonborn. Haven't you heard of the Prophecy?"

"What Prophecy?" Brynjolf asked, glancing between them. Lydia's frown deepened. "What are you on about?"

A chill suddenly descended over Kara. The Prophecy. The stories her father had told her. But she thought it couldn't be true, that it was just a Nord thing, that it had nothing to do with her. True, the blood was rampant in many Imperials, in the families of the emperors long ago. So why shouldn't she have it, being Nord and Imperial? _But why should I have it at all?_

Eiri had vanished, returning moments later with a book, the cover black, a silver symbol emblazoned on the front. She was flipping through it so fast, her hands blurred. Finally, she held it open somewhere near the end, reading it aloud:

_"I leave you with what is known as 'The Prophecy of the Dragonborn.' It is often said to originate in an Elder Scroll, although it is sometimes also attributed to the ancient Akaviri. Many have attempted to decipher it, and many have also believed that its omens had been fulfilled and that the advent of the 'Last Dragonborn' was at hand. I make no claims as an interpreter of prophecy, but it does suggest that the true significance of Akatosh's gift to mortalkind has yet to be fully understood._

_When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world_

_When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped_

_When the Thrice-Blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles_

_When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls_

_When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding_

_The World-Eater wakes…"_

"…_and the Wheel turns on the Last Dragonborn,_" Kara finished, her voice quiet.

Eiri looked up, puzzled. "You know it?"

She nodded. "My father, he used to tell me that sometimes when I was younger. He was never around, so I lived for those times, but I didn't think it meant anything. I just thought it was a Nord story."

"Don't you get it, though? It _does_ mean something. Like Vex said, Martin was the last and greatest Septim, the last Dragonborn emperor." She looked back down. "_'When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls.'_ That has to be him!_ 'When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding'_ - I bet that's Skyrim!"

"How d'you figure?" Brynjolf asked.

"Well, think of it. Towers are high structures, right? If you were on one, you'd feel like you were on top of the world. Skyrim is the furthest north in Tamriel you can get."

"Wait. The top of the world…" Jarl Balgruuf's words came back to Kara, as she remembered that shout down from the mountains. _The Throat of the World_. "Or it's a mountain."

"Or it could be my growing lack of interest," Mercer said loudly, standing up. "Look, who cares about all this prophecy nonsense? It's a bunch of bullshit. I don't care who you claim to be, or whether or not you're more special than the next lowlife who finds their way down here. What I am concerned with is all three of you people suddenly knowing everything there is to know about us. You," he pointed at Lydia, Kara, and Eiri, "do not belong here, and frankly, you're lucky we have a rule against killing, because I don't like you knowing our secrets."

Kara glanced at Brynjolf. "So what do you want us to do?"

Mercer didn't answer, too busy stroking his chin thoughtfully. He seemed to be talking to himself. "On the other hand, everyone is now convinced we just did the impossible by breaking into the College. This could work in our favor…" He looked over at Kara. "Look, I'll make you a deal: you can stay here, if you do something for me on this heist of yours that ends this entire insane thing. All right?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"You'll know when you get back from Falkreath Hold. Everything depends on Clavicus Vile, as I've been led to believe. Do we have an agreement?"

"I'm not going to agree to something if I don't know what it involves!"

"You're not really in a position to wriggle out of this. Either do it, or get your ass booted out. It's no skin off my back."

"Lass, just do what he says," Brynjolf said.

Kara glared at the two of them. "Fine. I'll do whatever you want. But this all depends on Clavicus Vile, whatever that means, so you better fucking hope this goes according to plan."

"It will," Eiri said smoothly. "Now that we have the daedra heart, we can begin the next step. Tomorrow morning, we'll go. I'll teleport us to Helgen - or, what's left of it - and we'll find where Delvin's scouts have claimed Vile's shrine is. Okay?"

"Who's going?" Mercer asked.

"Me," Brynjolf said immediately. "Along with Eiri, Kara, and Delvin."

"That's not much defense lined up there."

"Hey," Kara snapped. "I can fight."

"Regardless, I'd feel better if someone else went with you."

"What about you, Mercer?" Tonilia asked.

He snorted. "You're kidding, right? This is your mess. You idiots can clean it up."

"I'll go," Lydia announced, standing up. "It's my duty to protect Kara at any cost, and I have extensive training with various weapons and armor types."

"I don't care," Mercer remarked, waving his hand indifferently. "Somebody go, somebody don't go, I do not care. Come back when you've finished this nonsense, and we'll make our plans for the heist. Goodnight." He went through a doorway near the bar, disappearing down a corridor. A door shut somewhere beyond.

The silence left in his wake was so thick, it could have been bottled and sold. Kara didn't know what else to say. She had just spilled her guts, telling a bunch of thieves her entire life story, and suddenly there was a very real possibility that she was this fabled Dragonborn and that there might be a prophecy about her. It was just too much for her to even consider; her head ached, more fiercely than before. She was sick of the whole situation, and couldn't wait to be done and gone, regardless of who she was. _Let's hope we actually live to see Cyrodiil once more._

Everybody cast Kara one last lingering look, before going their separate ways: Delvin and Vex followed after Mercer, talking quietly as they disappeared from sight; Tonilia hung back to check up on Vekel, their voices a low murmur; Eiri departed to put her book away, her head down.

Kara crooked a finger, beckoning Lydia over, rejoicing in the knowledge that there was someone just as lost as her, if not more. "Look, you're probably exhausted. Go to the Bee and Barb. Tell Keerava you're my housecarl, and that you have my permission to stay in my room. I'll come get you tomorrow, all right?" Lydia opened her mouth, but Kara held up a hand. "I know you have questions. I'll answer them as best as I can when all of this is over, I promise. Okay?"

Lydia looked like she wanted to say more, but she just nodded. Kara waited until she left, before running a hand through her hair and turning around.

Brynjolf was still there, sitting at one of the tables, watching her from across the room. Once she got over her initial shock at seeing him still there, she met his gaze fiercely, wondering what he was thinking, daring him to call her an idiot, a liar, to say she was a fool, to spout all the things she already knew were true.

He was the first one to look away.

* * *

**Hey guys - I start my second year of college tomorrow, so I might be a bit busier, but I'm still going to try and update as frequently as possible! Thanks to everyone who reads, faves, follows, and/or reviews. You make writing ten times more fun :)**


	11. A Failure To Communicate

"Kara, can we talk?"

Eiri had returned, wringing her hands. She gestured to the cupboards, the makeshift walls that hid Kara's sickbed from view. Kara nodded, looking away from Brynjolf, following Eiri. She heard him get up and leave.

Eiri bustled around within their confined space, fixing what looked like two mugs of tea. She handed one to Kara. "Here, drink this."

"Thanks." Kara took the mug but didn't drink from it, sitting on the edge of the bed. With Eiri's recent habit of knocking her out via magick, she wasn't as willing to trust her. Instead, she waited for Eiri to stop moving and sit down, to say what she had to say.

Eiri plopped down in the chair beside the bed, scooting it forward. She didn't drink her tea, either. "So, this whole Dragonborn thing-"

Kara made a face. "Eiri, let it go. Mercer was right, okay?"

"Mercer is a fool!" Eiri snapped. She set her mug down, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I don't care what he says. I think this is very important."

"Why?"

"I just do, all right? Now, would you mind explaining some things to me?"

Kara shrugged. "If I can. What do you want to know?"

Eiri leaned forward eagerly. "How does it work?"

"Well, I kill a dragon. And then when it's dead, all the skin and muscle kind of…disintegrates off of it, floating up in the air in little pieces. It dissolves into this light, and it swirls around me and it - well, it goes inside of me, and it flows through me. It feels like wind, warm and tingly. And…that's it," she finished lamely.

"And then what?"

"And then I feel kind of funny, sort of euphoric for a while, and sometimes I have dreams. I see things that I know I haven't seen before, but I feel like I have."

"Absorbing the dragon's memories, yes," Eiri said, nodding. "And do you know how to use the Thu'um?"

"Yeah, but it isn't like mastery or anything. After I killed that dragon in Whiterun, the guards saw me absorb its soul, and one of them told me to try it out, and at first, I thought he was mad. But I just…take some deep breaths and calm myself, and then it's like I can feel it. It's like…switching over to another voice, if that makes sense, and I just expel the breath, and my mouth gives it shape. I didn't even really know what it would do, until I was doing it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that only when I opened my mouth and used it did I know what word I was saying. Like everything moved in slow motion, and then in my head I realized it was _fus_, which means 'force.'"

"So the dragon's knowledge doesn't really impact you until you try it?"

"I guess. I don't know if that's how it's supposed to be, but that's just what I've experienced." It was slowly becoming clear to Kara that if it was true, and she was Dragonborn, there was still so much she didn't know.

"Hm." Eiri tapped her chin, frowning. "This is all so fascinating, and so very important."

"But _why_?"

"Because Kara, think about it! Skyrim is in the middle of a political upheaval unlike anything since the Third Era."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on. The White-Gold Concordat predates both of us. Surely you must know Skyrim is fighting for its independence? And now with the High King dead…"

"Yeah, I know about that, I just never really thought about it much since I don't live here. How did the High King die?"

"Well, from what I've heard from the local gossip, he was murdered by Ulfric Stormcloak. Ulfric claims he's the rightful king, that Torygg was just an Empire puppet placed on the throne to control the Nords. He…well, he Shouted at him."

Kara cocked an eyebrow. "He…shouted?"

"Not shouted, like me, but _Shouted_, like you. Like Lydia said, he's one of the few who have studied the Thu'um and become proficient. He killed Torygg, and now Skyrim faces civil war."

"Well, what does that have to do with me?"

"Don't you see? Not only were stopped during an altercation of the Empire and Skyrim, but you're half-Nord, half-Imperial. You…you _are_ Skyrim. That has to be significant!"

Kara thought back to her conversation with Brynjolf, how she'd told him she was just like Skyrim. She knew about the problems, briefly, but only from Ralof's babbling and what she had seen at Helgen. But she still failed to see how she played a part in the story.

"Eiri, I think you're trying much too hard to find random, inconsequential details as important. This…it's all just happenstance."

"No, I don't think it is. I think you're meant to be here. Everything adds up, Kara, if you would just open your eyes!"

"Like what?"

"Look at the Prophecy! Martin Septim's death heralded the coming of the Last Dragonborn, your birth."

Kara laughed, shaking her head. "You know how crazy that sounds, right?"

"It makes sense! I know you aren't religious, but the gods _must _have a plan for you. Think of everything you've been through. By rights, you should have been killed when you got caught in the Imperial City, just like your friends, but someone saved you! What I want to know is why."

"Who cares? I stopped worrying about that long after it happened and I went behind bars. The only things I care about now are getting you home, and finding those bastards who betrayed us so I can cut the-"

"So you're telling me you don't even want to know who the hooded figure was?"

"Not at all."

"And you don't think the dragon saving you from Helgen-"

"That dragon didn't save me!" Suddenly Kara was standing. The mug had fallen from her hands, breaking on the stone floor, spilling tea on her boots. "That dragon killed innocent people, men and women and children in a town unlucky enough to be the home of some Imperial bullshit. That dragon spoke to me, and it said - well, I don't know what it said - but it was horrible!"

Eiri paused, watching Kara unsurely. She didn't even realize she'd been shouting, but she must have been, for her breathing was labored, her hands clenched into fists. Slowly, she sat back down.

"Look, I know what you're getting at, that I have some purpose here. But I don't care, all right? Just because I was born here doesn't mean I consider this place home at all. As far as I'm concerned, this place and I have nothing in common. I'm from Cyrodiil, and as soon as we can, we're leaving and getting you back home."

"So that's it?" Eiri asked, her voice bitter. "You'd be just like that dragon, slaughtering innocents?"

Kara blinked. "What _are_ you talking about?"

"You! The Prophecy says _'When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding'_ - that's Skyrim! Brothers are fighting brothers, friends are turning on each other, and the dragons are returning._ 'The World-Eater wakes'_, it said. That has to be something to do with the dragons!"

Kara knew it was, knew that the black dragon she'd encountered was the World-Eater; she'd seen as much in her dreams and the strange visions that daedric artifact had given her, but she held her tongue. Eiri didn't need anything else to fuel her wild insinuations, because none of this could be possible…could it?

"Yeah, so? How does that equal me killing people?"

"I don't care what these people think here, I believe you're the Last Dragonborn, and that means you are the only one who can save Skyrim from the dragons. If you don't, you're leaving them to die, and that's as good as killing them. This is your _destiny_, Kara. You were born to do this."

"Um, no, I was born because of some cheap mead and several months of infatuation between two consenting adults. I am not part of some prophecy. I just… how could _I_ save these people? I don't even know if I can save Uncle Harald tomorrow, much less an entire country!"

"That's why you need to go see the Greybeards. I was here, I heard the summons. Brynjolf told me what it means, and you need to go see them, enroll under their tutelage, master this power. You're the only one who can."

"Apparently not! Why doesn't Ulfric Stormcloak deal with this shit? He can Shout, he wants to be High King - clearly it's him, not me!"

In an uncharacteristic show of force, Eiri slammed her palm against the table. "Why are you fighting this? Is this about your parents?"

The air seemed to crystallize in Kara's lungs. "What do they have to do with this?"

"You, like Skyrim, are divided. You're torn between honoring the memory of your mother, holding on to what's left of her, and being with your father."

Kara's hands curled into fists again, her knuckles white. "What are you talking about?"

"Your mother. You try to be better, to make her proud, but you can't quite fight who you really are at heart."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You're a _thief_, Kara, just like your father!"

"But…I'm not," she mumbled, even as she knew, deep inside of her that it was true, that it had always been true.

She hated her father, hated him for leaving them behind, for chasing down dreams that didn't quite exist in the waking world, for making her mother love him and then throwing that love away. But at the same time, he was her father, buying her the bow for her birthday, patiently teaching her how to shoot, how to stay alert, telling her stories, making her laugh and blush with bawdy songs he'd picked up in taverns throughout Cyrodiil, and being there when she stole her very first item, telling her how proud he was, how she had done so well…

Yes, she _did_ like making him proud. She liked being known as Hrokr's daughter. But even more than that was the secret way she felt about thieving. She couldn't describe it; it was like soaring through the sky, running through a field, shouting at the top of her lungs, swimming naked in the ocean. It was freedom, spiking through her blood and making her heart dance. The only problem was once she got a taste of it, she never wanted to go back, never wanted to stop. Just like now.

"Oh, you're not? Look at your arm, look where you've been! Gods, Kara, you are so blind. You know, it broke my heart when I first learned you'd turned to thieving. I just knew you were going to turn out just like him, just like my parents always said you would."

"Eiri, shut up."

"I thought you were different from the way you always talked about your father, like you hated him, but secretly you relish it, the attention he gives you, pleasing him by playing right into his hands-"

"_Shut up_!" Kara jumped to her feet again. "What is wrong with you? Why are you saying these things?"

"Because you have a duty, whether you like it or not. Skyrim is depending on you, and you just refuse to see that because you're _afraid_."

"Of course I'm afraid!" Kara shouted. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not like you!"

"Don't you even want to hear what the Greybeards are going to say?"

"NO. Because I don't _want_ a destiny! I don't want the weight of the world on my shoulders, I don't want to be responsible for peoples' lives. I never wanted to be a part of this, I never even wanted to come here, but I did, because of _you_."

"I'm not going to apologize," Eiri said haughtily, blue eyes narrowed into slits. "It's because of me that we're finding all of this out. You _are_ something greater than what you chose to be, I know it."

"Well, I don't believe it. You know what? Fine, I'll admit it. I'm a thief, and - according to you - that's all I've ever wanted to be, anyway." She leaped up, stalking past Eiri.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk," she muttered, stooping to grab her coin pouch. She tied it to her belt on the way out of the Ragged Flagon. She practically ran through the tunnels, the air rushing past - or was it? - making her eyes tear up. Eiri was a fool, a pretty little idiot, if she thought that any of this was actually true.

She burst forth through the door with a great breath of relief, gasping, gulping like she was choking. It was dark, several hours before dawn. The moon shone half-heartedly, mostly hidden by clouds. The stars were gone, the night a velvety black that pressed in on Kara's eyes, stealing her breath. The quiet of night calmed her long enough for her heartbeat to slow.

She was halfway down the plank walkway on the canal, when she heard the wood creak behind her. She froze instantly, hand going to the dagger she'd forgotten to arm herself with. _Shit_.

"How long have you been out here?" she asked.

Brynjolf took a step forward, kicking off the wall he'd been leaning against. "Long enough, I s'pose. Are you all right?"

The answer fell from her mouth, bitter and hard, before she could stop herself. "What do you care?"

"Come now, lass. Associates, remember?"

"Whatever."

"Why don't you try and get some sleep? We have a lot to do in a few hours."

"I'm tired of sleeping."

He chuckled at that, but nodded. "Fair enough. But what are you doing out here?"

"Getting away from my thrice-damned cousin, and heading anywhere that will sell me something sweet at this hour."

"I think I could help you with that."

"What do you have in mind?"

She couldn't see very well in the dark, but she had a feeling he was grinning. "Do you mind a little walking?"

He led her out of Riften, chatting animatedly the entire time. Kara mostly tuned him out, thinking about what Eiri said, about this being her destiny. She almost sneered. Destiny was the stuff of myths and tales, not reality. She couldn't seriously be the one to save Skyrim from utter destruction, and if the gods _had_, for whatever reason, picked her to be their champion, they were sorely mistaken.

_Who in their right mind would choose me to save anyone?_

Brynjolf brought her to a small farm just south of Riften, where, despite the hour, a windmill turned slowly. Chickens pecked near their feet, as he marched right up to the door and knocked loudly.

It opened immediately, and a woman with a bonnet tied around her neck smiled at the sight of him. "Oh, Brynjolf, how lovely! How are you? Quick, come inside."

"Thank you, Leonara."

They stepped into the small house. A man stirred a pot beside the fire, facing away from them. He glanced over his shoulder, grinning at them. "Brynjolf! Where've you been, you devil?"

"Oh you know, up to no good, according to our gracious Jarl. The usual."

The woman closed the door and moved around them, bustling at the table. "You're so lucky, we just woke up. We've got quite a bit to do today, with harvest coming, you know, so we were just having breakfast. You're both welcome to join us."

"Yes, who is your charming friend here?" the man asked.

Kara wasn't sure how she could be considered charming since she hadn't spoken yet, but she'd take it. "I'm Kara Quick-Draw."

"These are friends of mine, Leonara and Addvild. They own this place, Snow-Shod Farm. Leonara's got a sweetroll that would make Julianos fall in love."

"Oh, I don't know about _that_," Leonara said, but she blushed, her eyes twinkling.

"Hold on," Addvild said, wiping his hands on a cloth nearby. "Was that you who killed the dragon in Riften?"

"Word certainly does travel fast around here," Kara said, smiling guardedly.

"How brave of you!" Leonara exclaimed. "Here, come sit down, eat." She grabbed Kara and steered her over to the table, plunking her down on the bench. Brynjolf sat beside her, and grinned at her out of the corner of his eye.

There was vegetable soup for breakfast, along with some goat cheese and bread. Brynjolf dived heartily into his food, talking loudly and laughing with Leonara and Addvild, but Kara kept to herself, eating two sweetrolls and a boiled crème treat. She finally felt calm enough to think.

_Maybe_ some of what Eiri said made sense. After all, Kara knew something she didn't, about the black dragon, the so-called World-Eater. She'd heard its voice speaking to her in her dreams, had seen what it had done to Helgen. Dragons hadn't been seen for hundreds and hundreds of years, and in the space of a fortnight, Kara had seen _three_. So it made sense that yes, the dragons were returning, and maybe this World-Eater was the reason. So what, she was supposed to defeat him? Kara nearly snorted. Just thinking about it all made her feel insane.

And yet… It sounded like storybook nonsense, but didn't all tales and myths have some basis in fact? Kara didn't know, not anymore. The lines between what was and what could be were starting to blur, and she didn't know if she stood more firmly on one side or the other. She felt like she didn't know anything.

After breakfast was over, Leonara and Addvild seemed loathe to say goodbye, but they had work to do. Brynjolf and Kara helped clean up (though unwillingly, on her part) before leaving the farm. When they stepped outside, the dark sky had changed to gray, the stars fading as dawn approached.

Kara thought they'd go back through the South Gate, back into town, but Brynjolf stopped her just outside the doors. He jerked his head to the left, and she followed him off the path, frowning.

"What?"

He shushed her. He pointed to an outcropping of the wall, a small ledge. Beside it was the wall of Honorhall Orphanage. He offered her a leg up.

She held back. "What are we doing?" she whispered.

"Not going back just yet. C'mon."

She sighed, letting him boost her up onto the ledge. He stepped back, getting a running start and pulling himself up after her. There was only room enough for them to stand side-by-side; Kara dug her hands into the stone, knowing if she started to fall forwards into the lake below, there'd be no real way to hang on. "Now what?" she hissed.

"Now…" He trailed off. Suddenly, he moved, swinging one leg around her.

"What are you-" She gasped involuntarily, as he pressed himself against her, her back to the wall, his hands framing the sides of her head. He grinned at her reaction, before he was gone again, climbing up the logs protruding from the wall of the orphanage like he had done it a dozen times before. She watched him as he disappeared from sight on the roof, before following.

He was laying on the sloping side of the roof facing east, his arms behind his head. He looked over at her, smiling, before gesturing for her to sit beside him. They were completely visible to the rest of Riften, but as it was still pre-dawn, there wasn't really anyone out and about to see them except guards near the keep. They appeared to be dozing, so Kara did as she was bid, plopping down beside him and wrapping her arms around her knees.

They sat in silence for a long while, the world growing lighter, the gray turning to gold. Balimund, the blacksmith, rose and stoked the coals of his forge, and set to work, each blow from his hammer ringing in the morning, like the bells of the chapels back in Cyrodiil. A breeze stirred the ends of Kara's hair, the curls tumbling back over her shoulders. She took a deep breath, remembering her first day in Riften, and the scents of the nearby forest, the leaves crushed beneath her feet, and the murky waters of Lake Honrich. As bad as its reputation was, she had actually grown to like it, especially when she had moments like these to sit beneath the open sky and just take it all in.

"You never answered me, you know."

Kara looked over. "Hm?"

"Earlier. I asked if you were all right."

"Right, and I asked why you care." She frowned. "Is that was all this was about? Showing me that you cared?"

"Nah. It was more because I like you." She snorted, but he went on. "Why is that so hard to believe, lass?"

"I'm not exactly a people person. That's what the guards said when this happened." She pointed at a scar just below her hairline, at her temple.

"Friendly disagreement?"

"Something like that. An Orc woman beat the shit out of me in prison, because I suppose I'd done something to offend her."

"You got that neat of a scar from a thrashing?"

"Ha! No. She tried to scalp me afterwards. The guards got up off their asses just in time to pull her off me, though it took five of them. Luckily, my injuries were bad enough to bring in a priestess. The guards threw me in solitary after that for the remainder of my stay." Now that he knew - that everyone knew - it was nice to talk about, like a weight lifting off her chest, making it easier for her to breathe.

"That couldn't have been easy."

Kara smiled. "It wasn't. Some days were harder than others, when I started losing my mind. But I eventually figured everyone's crazy anyway, so I may as well join them." She suddenly shook her head. "So no, I guess I'm not all right. I don't know what I am, other than a thief who relies on sweets to keep from losing what's left of her mind."

He feigned shock. "You, a thief? I never!"

"Oh shut up. I just… I guess I've been in denial. I just get so _stupid_ sometimes."

"How do you mean?"

"I try to blame this all on my father, but it was really me, wasn't it? I could have said something. In fact, I should have, I should have said no. And then when times are really bad, I feel like…if I hadn't become a thief, I wouldn't have gone to prison, I wouldn't have gotten my friends killed, my mother might still be alive and-" She suddenly choked, all too aware her eyes were filling with tears and hating herself for it.

"Hey." Brynjolf sat up, reaching out an arm to pull her closer. "None of that was your fault."

"But what if it _was_? What if that was my punishment-?"

"Not a chance, lass. Kara, look at me." He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his brilliant green eyes. "I don't believe you're being punished, and I never will believe that. As far as I'm concerned, you make your own luck and your own destiny. You pave the way for yourself. The gods aren't testing you, bad things just happened because life is, more often than not, wildly unfair."

She quickly wiped at her eyes, her eyes already drying. The tears were more of frustration than anything else. She had told Eiri she didn't want the weight of the world on her shoulders, but sometimes it felt like it was already there.

"You think so?"

"Of course! It's like Delvin and this whole business with him thinking the guild's bad luck is a curse. That's bullshit. It's just us being lazy, us not being as good as we should be." He brushed a wayward curl out of her eye. "There's something my father used to tell me: 'Your fate is fixed.' You couldn't have saved the people in your life who've gone, lass, not by good deeds or by the graces of gods, and dwelling on the should-haves will ruin you."

His words made sense, but distantly, on some other wavelength; she suddenly realized how close he was holding her, how fast her heart was beating. Kara pulled away, putting considerable distance between the two of them and fiddling with her bandages to avoid looking at him. Nobody had held her like that or gazed at her so intensely since... well, _never._ She tried telling herself that was the only reason it unnerved her, but her own arguments with herself sounded even more pathetic than usual.

It reminded her of the one thing she still had yet to say, and her unease faded.

"Thanks."

"I'm right, you know."

"I know. Look, I, uh… I'm sorry I never told you. About my stint in prison." _Seems like I spend all my time apologizing these days. At least, where Brynjolf is concerned._

He shrugged. "Wasn't my business."

"Well, don't friends tell each other things?" She evaded his stare like it was the plague.

There was a definite smirk in his voice when he said, "Have I just been promoted, lass?"

"Let's not make a big deal out of this. I just figured you've saved my life plenty in the last couple of days and now you know everything there is to know about me, and that warrants some sort of official title. Although," she said loudly, "if you'd rather stay an associate…"

"No, no, I'll take it!" He brushed some of his red hair away from his face. "But I understand why you didn't want to tell us."

"Well, why would I? Not only am I a thief, but the worst kind, to get caught. You must think I'm a proper idiot."

"'Course not. Quite a few of us in the guild have been in and out of different places. Cynric was in High Rock for as long as you, I believe."

"I wonder what it's like there…" She glanced at him. "Did you know?"

"I…didn't _know_, exactly, but I had a feeling. I've never quite met someone who has such an aversion to being underground."

"What about Cynric?"

"Eh, he's not exactly fearful, but jumpy as a skeever with a boot up its-"

"Brynjolf," she interrupted. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For…you know."

"No, I don't know."

She huffed. "Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Yes, because I haven't the faintest idea of what you're referring to."

Kara rolled her eyes. "For saving my life and…stuff. For everything."

He reached over, lightly touching her shoulder. "It was my pleasure, lass."

She stared at his hand, the heat of it burning through her clothes. "Look, I-"

"Oy!" They both started, turning to look down. There was a guard below, pointing up at them with one accusing finger. "What are you doin' up there?"

"Well, that looks like our lot." Brynjolf jumped to his feet, offering her a hand.

Maybe she was part of some ridiculous prophecy. Maybe she was trying to reconcile the blood warring inside her, and still trying to figure out who she wanted to be. And yeah, maybe they would die later that day, surrounded by all manner of foul creatures like vampires and daedra, but if they did, at least Kara would know she had a friend in Brynjolf. Of course, she hoped she wouldn't die, and that everything would go according to the plan, but it was at least a comfort to know that Skyrim was not the cold, unforgiving place it appeared to be at first glance.

Kara smiled, placing her hand in his.

* * *

**Just wanted to say thanks to everyone for your lovely words! I haven't had as much time to write and this is probably the worst week of this entire year for me so far, so it may take me a little longer to get the next one out, but I am working on it, I promise :)**


	12. The Stuff That Vampires Are Made Of

Five people stood around a table, peering at a map of Skyrim. There was a dagger stuck into the point marked Falkreath.

"So, to go over the plan once more-" Eiri said, to the collective groans of the three other thieves present. Lydia didn't make a sound, standing off to the side, a disapproving scowl darkening her features.

Eiri wore a similar face when she looked around at everyone. "We need to get this _perfect_, do you understand? We're running out of time." She, like Kara, hadn't slept, but she was pale, dark circles bruising the skin beneath her eyes.

"Okay, fine," Delvin said, gesturing for Eiri to go on. "We teleport to Helgen, and then…"

"Then we find our way to Clavicus' shrine, which, according to your sources, is here." She pointed to a place on the map north of Helgen, near the base of the Throat of the World. "There are reportedly vampires nearby. Lydia, you can take care of them easily, I'm sure. We gather up some of their dust - I have the rest of the ingredients, including the daedra heart - and then we continue on. We find the shrine, I summon Clavicus, and then I…_convince_ him to release my father."

Kara raised her hand politely.

Eiri flicked an annoyed glance at her cousin. "Yes?"

"Since we're all here, shouldn't you perhaps explain what happens afterwards?"

"I make the potion for my father, and we go home. What-"

"But that's not true. You owe the guild that ring of yours and a heist. What is this heist? Since nobody elected to tell me before this point-"

"I will not be a part of it," Lydia said firmly. "Whether my Thane is or not."

"Nobody's asking you to, Lydia. Eiri could probably teleport you back to Whiterun if you asked nicely. But what does this heist entail? Why does it hinge on negotiating with Vile?"

"All right, you want us to be straight with you?" Delvin tapped the table with his fingers. "Here's how it plays out: girlie saves her dear old father, and we do some convincing of our own. You ever seen a picture of Vile before?"

Kara shook her head. Delvin nodded at Eiri, who pulled a book seemingly out of mid-air. She opened it to a dog-eared page, handing it to Kara. The painted page showed a man standing on a pedestal, wearing robes that exposed his chest. His hair flowed to his shoulders, but crowning the top of his head were two curling horns. There was a dog standing by his side. In his left hand, he held out a mask bearing two horns as well.

Delvin pointed to the mask the Daedric Prince held aloft. "That's what we want. Supposedly his mask gives the wearer a silver-tongue. With it, we could persuade anyone to part with their precious shiny bits. We could pull over an entire city, and they would just _let_ us!"

"So you want the mask. But how are you going to get it?"

"You'll see," Eiri said, snatching the book back and snapping it shut. "Now, if we may proceed. After my father is free and you have the mask, we'll return here, and I'll make the potion. After that, the ring and the mask are yours, and I'm free to go home." She glanced around the table. "Is everyone clear?"

Four heads nodded.

Eiri clapped her hands together. "Wonderful. Now, I need all of you to stand in a circle - but leave room for me."

They did as she said, shoving aside tables. Vekel watched them from behind the bar, Tonilia sitting up on top of it, kicking her legs idly. Everyone else was gone, back in their hidden nest (or so Kara assumed), Vex included. As such, the Ragged Flagon was unusually quiet; the lack of chatter brought a chill to Kara's spine. She had a bad feeling about their journey, and they hadn't even left yet.

Eiri brought out her chalk and drew the same strange symbols on the floor as she had the time she sent Brynjolf and Kara to Windhelm. She drew the circle around their feet, while Delvin fidgeted impatiently, and Lydia remained as taciturn as she had all morning. Only her eyes gave her away; they were slightly wide, and held a sheen of fear.

"It's really not so bad," Kara whispered, leaning over slightly. "It's a bit like…riding a horse. Really fast."

"Really?"

Kara thought for a moment. "Well…no. Not really."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at Kara and didn't speak again. Brynjolf made a noise that sounded like a strangled laugh, and Kara felt around to step on his toes. Delvin yelped instead, and this time, Brynjolf did laugh, the sound echoing. Eiri finished drawing the symbols at that moment, standing up and pocketing her chalk. She grabbed a small satchel and slung it over her shoulder before joining them in the circle.

"Does everyone have what they need?"

Delvin and Brynjolf touched their daggers, while Lydia hefted up her shield, and Kara reached back to press her fingers to the familiar wood of Crow's Eye. Everyone nodded.

"Excellent. Hold hands."

Delvin and Brynjolf exchanged a dubious look, while Lydia looked like she'd just tasted something disgusting. Kara grasped Lydia and Brynjolf's hands, comparing the differences between them: Lydia's hand was clammy and limp, while Brynjolf's was warm. He squeezed her fingers gently, looking at her out of the corner of his eye and shooting her a smirk. Kara felt herself blush.

"Hold tight, all right?" Eiri said, looking around at all of them. "When we land, it might very well be…jarring."

Lydia's hand tightened so fiercely, Kara winced, her bones shifting. Brynjolf's hold remained the same; when she looked up at him, he appeared to be in some sort of competition with Delvin to see who could grip harder. Judging by the pained expression on Delvin's face, Brynjolf was winning.

Eiri, meanwhile, had closed her eyes. She was mumbling something under her breath, her cheeks turning pink. Suddenly, the symbols on the floor glowed blue. Lydia flinched. The air around them glimmered, melting before their very eyes, colors dripping into puddles at their feet. The tingling Kara associated with magick began the slow climb of her body, and judging by Delvin's exclamation and Lydia's squeak, they felt it too. The blue light followed, touching the top of Brynjolf's head, before turning a blinding white, and then they were off.

When they landed, their hands broke apart, everyone but Eiri falling. Delvin was curled up on the ground, groaning; Brynjolf had skinned one his palms catching himself; Lydia was on her back, eyes closed; and Kara was on her knees, leaning forward to throw up, just like she had the last time.

"Next time," she gasped, struggling to take a breath. "We ride."

Eiri giggled nervously. They all helped each other up, taking time for Eiri to bandage Brynjolf's hand, and tend to Delvin and Lydia. As she fussed over everyone, Kara took several halting steps away from them, staring around at what remained of Helgen.

She had only gotten the briefest look when she had arrived via the Empire's ambush, but it had seemed lovely. Well, at the time, of course she had wanted it to erupt into flames if that meant her salvation, but she never imagined _this_.

Everyone was either dead or gone, the air silent and weighty like a graveyard, an expectation for something, _anything_, to happen hanging over them. All of the buildings had been decimated, crushed into kindling or burned to blackened piles of stone and ashes. Every footstep of Kara's seemed to echo, a heavy dread adorning her shoulders. She wasn't religious, and she didn't care what anyone else thought, but to her, she was walking over a gravesite, the place where dozens had lost their lives, paying for her freedom. It was hallowed ground.

"Hey," Brynjolf said, standing right behind her. Eiri had bandaged his palm with a fragment torn from her robe. "Are you all right?"

Kara nodded, not looking at him. "Yeah. It's just strange, to be back here. Just thinking about it…"

"What?"

"Well, the only time I was ever here was one of the worst moments of my life. But to the people who lived here, it was home. When we were in the wagon, that Stormcloak, Ralof, he talked about how he used to be sweet on a girl from here. I never saw her, and I don't even know him, not really, but I cant help thinking about that. I wonder what happened to her…" She kicked a piece of burned wood with her toe. "I wonder what happened to all of them."

"It wasn't your fault, lass. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

She sighed. "You're probably right."

"'Course I am." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, steering her back to the group.

When they neared, Eiri was finishing up with Lydia. She spared them a glance, before doing a double-take, her eyes widening. She stared between the two of them questioningly. Kara rolled her eyes, shaking off Brynjolf's arm, inspecting her housecarl.

"You okay?"

Lydia nodded, but her face was still ashen. "Which way?"

"North," Brynjolf said, expression unreadable. "Up this road." He pointed behind them, towards the outskirts. The Throat of the World loomed over them, obscuring the sky. The top of it was hidden, disappearing into the clouds.

Kara was gazing at it, one hand up to shield her eyes, when she heard it. She froze, stock-still, when she heard it again. She looked around at everyone; nobody else heard it, everyone looking forward up the road, just like Brynjolf. He took two steps forward, and time seemed to slow.

"Wait-" She lurched forward, grabbing his arm, but it was already too late.

A whistle. Kara spun on one foot in front of him, closing her eyes, bracing herself. _Thwack. _The arrow found her armor, hitting her left shoulder piece. It sunk through, but not enough to pierce her neck. She opened her eyes, head snapping around in the direction it had come from.

There were seven of them, spreading out from where they must have been taking shelter in one of the more stable buildings. One was the archer that had shot at Kara; he struggled to get another arrow out of his quiver.

"Bandits!" Lydia shouted, unsheathing her sword, the metal singing. She banged it against the edge of her shield, before charging off. Kara watched, enthralled, as her housecarl bashed the foremost bandit in the face, crushing his nose. Blood spattered Lydia's shiny armor, as she beheaded him with a savage strike.

"Gods, lass, are you out of your mind?" Brynjolf grabbed Kara, yanking the arrow out of her armor. "Don't ever do that again!"

"Fine by me. Next time, I'll let you get shot!" She shook him off, pulling her bow off her back and nocking an arrow. It wasn't easy gripping her bow with her bandaged hand, but she managed. She fired, getting one of the bandits in the stomach. The woman gurgled, clutching her wound, before falling to her knees.

Delvin was dueling with a man twice his size wielding a great-axe. The thief seemed overpowered, before a fireball whooshed over his head and collided with the bandit's face. He screamed in pain, dropping his axe, hands flying to his face as his skin bubbled and melted. He stopped screamingly shortly. Delvin looked over his shoulder, grinning at Eiri.

"Thanks, girlie."

"My pleasure."

Brynjolf had his own daggers out as well; he threw one more quickly than anyone Kara had ever seen. It sank into the throat of one of the bandits Lydia was fighting, parting his skin like it was butter. His comrade shrieked, distracted by the blood sprayed on his face. Lydia used the distraction as ample opportunity to slice; her blade bit into his shoulder. He crumpled.

Delvin and Lydia partnered to take down one of the last bandits, while Kara ducked another arrow, letting loose one of her own. He managed cover at the last moment, and her arrow pierced wood. Clenching her teeth, she nocked another, using his fright to advance several feet. She heard a crash of blades, before a yelp, cut off at the end. _Looks like it's just you and me,_ she thought, grinning fiercely.

She forgot everyone else around her, forgot their purpose there, everything zeroing in on the man who thought to kill her using her own favored skill. She stared straight ahead at the broken piece of wall he was hiding behind, still walking forward, one foot in front of the other, her fingers sure on the string, her aim true-

He popped up, swinging his bow around to shoot at her. Before he even had a chance to take a breath, her string sang. He was dead before he even realized it, flying backwards, eyes wide. He didn't get up again.

Kara slowly lowered her bow. Reality came back in a rush of cold, fresh air, the scent of pine and snow, the sound of everyone's harsh breathing. Kara glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes, before she smirked. She laughed softly. Delvin, too, grinned and began to laugh. Brynjolf smirked, while Lydia wiped the blood from her sword and shield with a handkerchief. She let her armor be.

Eiri looked slightly shaken, swallowing hard and looking down at the ground. Kara took a step towards her, grabbing her shoulder.

"Hey, you all right?" This was why she hadn't wanted Eiri involved. Kara had made her own first kill at the same age, and she hadn't wished that on anyone, especially her cousin. Still, it was too late now; the best they could do was move on from that point. Kara just hoped Eiri would understand that sometimes, death was necessary.

Eiri nodded. "I just… I've never done that to someone before."

"It was us or them."

"Yeah, I know. It just feels... surreal."

Kara smiled. "Doesn't all of this?"

Eiri's lips curved slightly. "I guess so."

Lydia sheathed her blade with a ring, maneuvering her shield onto her back. "Moving on?"

Everyone looked to Delvin and Brynjolf. They exchanged a look and nodded. Making sure everyone was still in one piece and accounted for, they continued on. Kara didn't breathe easily until they were well away from Helgen and into the forests of Falkreath Hold.

It was midday, the sunlight filtering through the russet leaves, everything bright, the air delightfully cool. Some of the trees were still changing, their leaves a pale green, caught in the cusp between summer's heat and the harvest seasons. Birds flew overhead, calling back and forth as they journeyed on, and springing from the undergrowth beneath their feet was a rabbit, zig-zagging off into the woods. Kara stared around as best she could at everything in wide-eyed wonder. It was easy to see the beauty of Skyrim in a place like this.

They walked for hours, the morning becoming afternoon. The higher they climbed, winding their way up the base of the mountain, the chiller the air became. Snow began to fall, melting on Kara's cheeks like tears. She brushed them away, looking up at the sky. The atmosphere had changed entirely, clouds covering the sun, the air thin and freezing her lungs. She shivered as they followed the path between two rising peaks, the ground evening out to a canyon surrounded by mountain on all sides.

"This should be it here," Delvin said, pointing. "Haemar's Shame."

To their right there was a cave. Outside, there was a wagon and a lantern, but nothing else. Immediately, everyone unsheathed their weapons, looking around uneasily. It was quickly all too quiet, the snow suppressing them with a wall of silence.

"Are we ready for this?" Lydia asked, her voice low.

Kara nodded. "We have to be."

Fire crackled, blooming in Eiri's hands. She looked around at everyone, before taking a deep breath and walking into the cave. Clutching her bow with damp palms, Kara followed close behind.

The cave was moist, cold air blowing them forward. Water dripped, sliding over slick icicles and pooling on the dirt floor. Delvin stopped Eiri, taking point with her close behind, her hands giving them enough light to see by. They crept through a tunnel on silent feet. Kara made the mistake of looking down in time to see old bloodstains coating the stone beneath their feet. Her stomach turned over queasily.

"Wait," Delvin suddenly whispered, holding up a hand to stop them. "Did you hear that?"

Everyone stopped, holding their breath. From up ahead, there was the clear sound of voices. Kara felt like she had just swallowed one of the icicles near the mouth of the cave.

Delvin gestured to Kara, mouthing at her to move on ahead and scout. She nodded, pulling an arrow out of her quiver and tiptoeing past everyone, ducking down low to the ground to avoid being seen.

The tunnel opened up into a cave with a high ceiling. More blood spattered the floor, and against the far wall, there was an alchemy table and three shadowy figures lit by one guttering candle. One was bent over the table, mixing something; Kara could hear the grinding of a mortar and pestle all the way back by the tunnel. The other two were slouched against the wall. They appeared to be arguing.

"…I was just saying that it don't make no sense to me."

"Does anything make sense in that tiny little brain of yours?"

"I'm serious, Imelda. Shouldn't feeding make me _more_ powerful?"

"Are you doubting our great gift, Breccan? You're such a fool-"

The figure at the alchemy table slammed their palm against the table. "That's enough! If I hear anymore bickering from the two of you, I'll cut both your heads off myself and use you in my experiments."

They mumbled their apologies, and something else Kara couldn't hear. She'd heard enough. She scampered back, keeping herself in the darkness, her steps light, silent. Delvin was waiting for her, everyone else crowded around behind him. The flames flickering in Eiri's hands were so small, Kara could barely see anything but their eyes.

"There's three vampires. One of them is definitely in charge."

"All right. Eiri, you stay back, as far out of danger as possible. Brynjolf, Kara, you two stay back as well. Me and Lydia will get in close." His daggers glinted in the weak light. "Understood?"

Everyone nodded. Brynjolf nudged Kara, and the two of them sidled out of the tunnel first, edging around the cavern walls, keeping their backs to the glistening stone. Eiri did the same, huddling in an opposite corner of the room. Her hands were empty, everything plunged into darkness. The only sound above the arguing vampires was Delvin's breathing, as he and Lydia plunged through the middle of the room. Lydia's armor clanked quietly.

Suddenly the vampire at the alchemy table stood up straight, stopping whatever it was she'd been doing. "Shut up," she hissed, dropping her mortar and pestle. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what, Venetia?"

"I thought I heard footsteps…" She cocked her head, listening intently.

Kara's hands held her bow so tightly, her fingers hurt. She couldn't see Delvin or Lydia, but she knew they were there ahead of them. She also knew that vampires had improved sight in the dark, and she hoped harder than ever that they were all hidden well enough that they would manage to get the jump on some of the worst creatures imaginable.

"Imelda," Venetia snapped after a moment. "Go check the entrance. It could just be an animal. If it is, kill it and bring it back."

"You think I can lift an entire deer on my own?"

"Who said it was a deer?" Venetia sneered. "Besides, what good is your gift is you're still the same sniveling weakling you were in life? _Go_."

"Yes, Venetia," Imelda replied sullenly. She kicked off the wall, stepping from the halo of candlelight into the darkness, her footsteps approaching.

Panic welled up in Kara, entwining her heart and stopping it almost entirely, but something else replaced it, overwhelming it, forcing it to release her. Something brushed her, and she struck like a snake. She grabbed Imelda, her hand clamped fiercely over the vampire's mouth. In one quicksilver motion, she pulled her dagger from its sheath and plunged it into the vampire's chest, into her heart. Her head lolled back, her body twitching. Kara let her down slowly, silently, laying her against the stone floor, her arms splayed at her sides. There was a hissing sound, before she dissolved into a pile of ashes.

Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to do.

The vampire Venetia made a strangled sound, taking a step back, bumping into her alchemy table. She clutched her chest. "She's - dead!" she gasped.

Suddenly, it hit Kara with full clarity: Venetia was a Master Vampire. The two with her were her creations. Kara almost swore out loud, before remembering their need for silence; she bit her lip instead, almost hard enough to draw blood.

"What do you mean, she's dead?"

"I mean she's _dead_, you idiot, in ashes! I felt it. Something is amiss here, Breccan. I feel as though…" She trailed off.

"Venetia?"

Her voice was a low croon. "I feel as though we're not alone."

Before any of them could react, the cavern was suddenly filled with light: Venetia had cast Mage Light, the illuminating sphere stuck to the roof of the cave above them. Eiri cried out; if the light hadn't done it, that served to make their presence known.

Venetia snarled. "Intruders! Breccan, kill them!"

The other vampire, an enormous Orc, picked up an axe that had been leaning in the corner, swinging it wildly through the air towards Delvin and Lydia. Delvin rolled away, but Lydia came up hard, blocking with her shield and striking the Orc's armored leg. Kara had let loose an arrow without even realizing she'd moved; it struck Breccan in the leg. He roared, fighting Lydia with renewed vigor. She parried and blocked his furious attacks as best as she could, but he was beating her backwards too quickly.

Delvin, meanwhile, was dodging spells from the Master Vampire, trying to get close enough to strike. Brynjolf ran to help him, while Eiri scuttled over next to Kara, scooping up Imelda's ashes into a tiny pouch.

"Is that enough?" Kara asked, not looking down.

Eiri shook her head fervently, her face pale. "I'm sorry," she said.

Kara wasn't listening, was instead already walking her bow forward, pulling another arrow from her quiver. This time, it sank into the Orc's forearm, going right through it. He bellowed, as blood streamed down his arm and into his hand, his hold on the axe faltering. He gripped it with both hands, swinging it up over his head; there were just a few seconds before the axe came down, and Lydia crouched, bracing herself, her shield up. The axe bit into her shield - she cried out at the same time as someone else across the room - Kara sucked in a breath, suddenly very fearful for her housecarl's life, when Lydia let loose a savage war cry and launched herself up, stabbing the Orc in the chest. His eyes widened, his throat gurgling for just one second, before he glowed and disintegrated around her blade. The air stank of burning flesh.

Kara lowered her bow. "Are you all right?"

Lydia shook her head mutely. She pulled the broken remnants of her shield off her arm, wincing as she did. The axe had gone through, cutting her arm, and judging by the bone piercing her skin, had broken it as well. Kara looked away, her stomach twisting. She breathed shallowly through her nose.

"We got someone else who isn't all right," Delvin spoke up, panting.

Kara looked around. There was another pile of ashes beside him where the Master Vampire must have died, some of it coating his face. He coughed once, twice, before kneeling down beside a prone, red-headed figure lying in a puddle of blood.

* * *

**Got lucky and squeezed out some time to write, so the next one and a half chapters are done after this, but consider this your official warning - there are an estimated FOUR chapters left, provided everything goes according to plan. At this point, I ****_am_**** planning on writing a sequel, so there's that.**

**As always, thanks for reading :) I'll most likely update as soon as tomorrow!**


	13. You're Gonna Need A Bigger Soul Gem

Kara's mind was a white-out of panic. She dropped her bow and ran, skidding to a stop beside Brynjolf, helping Delvin turn him over.

"What happened?" she asked, fighting the urge to throw up, to scream.

"That bitch got him."

There was a large chunk of flesh missing from Brynjolf's neck. He had both his hands on it, but blood continued to flow through his fingers, covering his chest and the floor. Even as she knelt beside him, it soaked into her armor, turning her own skin as red as his. His face was an eerie white, his eyes too-bright.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Kara shushed him. "No, save your strength." She turned to look over her shoulder. "Eiri, get over here!"

Eiri materialized beside her, her fingers just as dusty as Delvin's face. "Oh, sweet Kynareth," she said, her breath catching. "Lydia, do you mind if I-?"

"I can wait," the housecarl said stoically, though she too was pale. She had removed her chestplate and torn off a piece of her shirt to bind her arm, clutching it to her chest. "It's not so bad."

"Just keep pressure on it and try not to touch that bone." Eiri turned her attention back to Brynjolf. "Okay, I'm going to need you to move your hands. All right? Can you do that?"

Brynjolf nodded weakly.

"Okay…now!"

Brynjolf moved his hands, and a torrent of blood surged forth. Immediately, Eiri put her hands back over the wound, as Brynjolf's eyes closed and he went still.

"He's not-" Kara squeaked, unable to even say the word.

Eiri shook her head. "Passed out. She nicked his artery, so he's bleeding out. Delvin, are you all right?"

Delvin looked surprised, before nodding. "Right as rain. Why?"

"Because someone's going to need to give him their blood. I can't, Lydia's hurt, and-"

"I'll do it," Kara said fiercely, already reaching for her bracer, fumbling with the straps. "He can have mine."

"No!" Eiri said sharply.

"Why not?"

"You're still recovering from your own wounds. Besides, I don't know what being marked by a daedra has done to you on an anatomical level." Her blue eyes met Kara's grey ones. "I need someone with me when we deal with Clavicus, Kara. I need you."

Slowly, Kara nodded. She fixed her bracer and nodded at her cousin. "What else can I do to help?"

"I'm going to need you to make a very shallow cut on Delvin's arm, just below his elbow. Where your scar is, if this was you. Understand?"

Kara nodded again. Her own dagger was coated in blood, as were Delvin's two, so she used the knife she kept in her boot. Delvin grinned at her uneasily when he removed his bracer and rolled his sleeve up. "Don't kill me, curls."

"I won't, as long as you stop calling me that."

"Deal."

She slashed as quickly as she could. Delvin inhaled sharply but said nothing. His skin looked fine, before several beads of blood rose to the surface, slowly, like Kara had caught it by surprise. They dotted a line two inches long. Delvin hissed as the air hit it.

Beside them, Eiri was holding tight to Brynjolf's neck, a white light encompassing her hands and the wound. Kara watched, fascinated, as the skin began to knit itself, pulling back together. After a few minutes, it was like he hadn't been bitten at all, though there was a small indentation where Eiri said a scar might form.

Taking Kara's knife, she made the same cut on Brynjolf's limp arm, and handed it back to Kara. Kara cleaned it off and put it back in her boot, before suddenly the entire room went black. Lydia and Eiri shrieked simultaneously.

"Hang on, I'll get it," Kara said, remembering all too well their excursion to the College. Just remembering that made her stomach clench with dread. Avoiding thoughts of what might happen to Brynjolf, she called forth her own distant magick, drawing it down into her palms. She cast a ball of Mage Light at the roof over them, just like the vampire had done, and everything resumed in glittering focus once more.

Eiri was holding Delvin's arm, patiently waiting. When there was once more light to see by, she nodded at him and began. The light around her hands glowed red, and he exclaimed, cursing at the top of his lungs. Lydia, too, looked horrified, as blood siphoned from his arm into the air around Eiri's hands, a grotesque scarlet bubble encasing them. When the light turned pink, and then white, she stopped. Delvin muttered, scowling at her, before clamping a hand over the cut to stop the bleeding.

The bubble of blood moved of its own accord, the liquid twisting through and over her hands, like a ball of water. Turning carefully back to Brynjolf, she held it over the incision she'd made in his arm and did the same. The light turned from red, to pink, to white, flowing into Brynjolf. After her hands were clean and free, she healed the on his arm and Delvin's, and stood up, visibly shaken.

"Okay, Delvin, you watch over Brynjolf. Let him wake up on his own. Lydia, come here so I can do your arm."

"Are you all right?" Kara asked, pitching her voice low so no one else would hear. "You're very pale."

"I'm fine. Transfusions are just quite…taxing."

"Here." Kara pulled her waterskin out of her bag, handing it to Eiri. "Drink some."

"Kara-"

"Look, if trans-whatevers are taxing, how are you going to hold up against a Daedric Prince? _Drink some_." When Eiri looked mutinous, Kara shook it under her nose, the water sloshing around inside. "I'll not tell you again."

Glaring, Eiri snatched the skin from her hand and opened it, taking several swallows. She wiped her mouth with the back of one hand and thrust it back at Kara. "There. Are you happy?"

"Not particularly, but where your health is concerned, satisfied. Now, fix my housecarl. She's no good to me with a lame arm."

"And here I thought I was no good to you at all," Lydia said dryly, as Eiri untied the scrap of fabric around her arm.

"While you're at it, maybe you could sew her lips shut? Or use magick to remove them entirely?"

Eiri rolled her eyes. "Magick doesn't work like that, it's much more-"

A groan from beside them cut her off. Kara gasped, quickly handing her waterskin to Lydia, before kneeling back down beside Brynjolf in time to see his eyes open. His eyelashes fluttered over his cheeks. In a moment of anxious wonder, she realized she had never noticed them before. They were long, copper-colored, making his eyes ever greener.

He grinned when he noticed her close scrutiny. "Hullo, lass."

She sat up suddenly, pulling as far away from him as she could without standing outright. She narrowed her eyes as he started to grin. "You're an ass, did you know that?"

He nodded. "Aye, I did." He sat up, reaching for his neck with a wince. "Gods. It feels like I was savaged by a bear."

"Close enough," Delvin said. He sneezed and dust shot out of his nose.

Kara recoiled, before peering at Brynjolf. "You gonna be okay?"

"'Course, lass. This isn't my first time tangling with something dangerous. Though, to be honest, I wouldn't mind lying here for a few more minutes."

"Good, because you're going to," Eiri said, not looking up. There was a bright flash of light, and Lydia sucked in a sharp breath that mimicked a scream. Her bone was back in her arm, the skin as smooth as it had ever been. Rather than being grateful, however, Lydia looked like she wanted to punch the young girl beside her.

Kara quickly intervened. "How's it feel? Do you think you can fight?"

Lydia looked at Kara like she was insane. "Of course I can. But my shield is ruined."

"Okay. So, due to recent setbacks, the three of you will stay here. I'll accompany Eiri on to the shrine."

Lydia and Brynjolf both objected simultaneously.

"Lass, that does not sound like a good idea-"

"What if there are more of them?"

"Yes," Brynjolf added, pointing at Lydia. "She's right. What if there are more vampires?"

"I'll scout ahead before we just jump into a room. If there are more, we'll come back." Eiri made a sound like she was going to interrupt, but Kara held up a hand. "Lydia can help us take them out. I'm pretty sure she's still lethal, even without a shield."

Lydia nodded.

"It's safer if at least you two stay here," Kara said, pointing at Delvin and Brynjolf. "I don't want to piss off Mercer anymore by getting you killed. Even if he does seem like a-"

"Kara," Eiri interrupted pointedly. "Every moment is valuable."

Kara nodded, forgetting what she had been about to say. It wasn't important. This, on the other hand, was the moment. This was what everything had been building towards, and she wasn't afraid to admit she was scared, more terrified than she had been in her entire life, except for the two times she'd thought she was going to die. But she was about to go head-to-head with a Daedric Prince with nothing as a substantial weapon except her fifteen-year-old cousin, so wasn't it the same thing?

Eiri gathered up the last of the ashes while Kara fetched her bow from where she'd dropped it, tying her little pouch tight and slipping it into her bag. After helping Brynjolf sit up and giving him her own waterskin and a torch she'd lit, she stood with a resolution far older than her few years and looked at Kara.

"Are you ready?"

Kara nodded. She was more worried about Eiri than herself. "You?"

Eiri looked towards the opening against the opposite wall, and took a deep breath. "Ready."

Kara looked back once at their companions, at Brynjolf saluting her across the room, before ducking into a dark corridor and vanishing from sight.

* * *

Water splashed into Kara's boots as she and Eiri tromped through a small stream, leading them down over smooth stones. The walls were too close for Kara's liking, barely spanning the breadth of her shoulders, feeling like they were pressing in on her, but luckily, it wasn't a very long distance. The stream flowed through another opening, and Kara followed Eiri through it, onto an outcropping of snowy stone. A rickety set of stairs led down to the shrine below. The room was empty, save for them; Eiri cast Mage Light several times on the walls around them, the cavern bright as the light of day they'd left behind.

Kara started forward, but Eiri grabbed her arm. "Wait."

"What?"

"I-I'm sorry. For everything I said back in Riften, especially about your parents. I had no right-"

"No, you may have actually been right." This was the worst time to talk about it, the worst place, but what if they never got another chance? "I don't know who I am. I know who I should be and who I want to be, but they're just so different, so opposite. I just wish…" She shook her head, laughing. "Who am I kidding? I don't know. Sometimes, I just don't know anything."

Eiri grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Well, I hope you do find what you're looking for, I really do. You deserve that, Kara. I…I just wanted you to know how important you are to me, and how much I look up to you. I love you, cousin."

Kara smiled, but she was scared now, scared and surprised. "Eiri, I don't like the way you're talking."

"I know, I know, I sound as if we're both going to die, and we may yet, if I'm being honest. But…" Eiri bit her lip, eyeing the ground. "If for some reason you see something, something that isn't quite me, I want you to forget whatever it is you've seen. Can you promise to do that for me?"

"Eiri, what are you planning to do?"

"No, I need you to promise." Her big blue eyes were pleading. "Remember and love me not for my actions, but for who you know I am."

A memory suddenly overcame Kara, like it was happening around her. "You know, when you were born, that was probably one the only time my mother and father completely agreed on something. They both dropped everything and whisked us off to Bruma. My father was so happy for his younger brother, and there was a great party. I don't remember much of it, because I was only four at the time, but I do remember your mother letting me hold you. You were…so small, so pink and beautiful. You had no hair, but your eyes, they were just as big and blue as they are now. I looked down at you, and you were staring up at me, full of wonder and life, like you always have been. Looking down at you, I just knew you were destined to do great things."

Eiri's voice was thick. "Kara…"

"No, let me finish. I held you and I sang to you, and I was just so happy that I cried. My parents were astounded. My father asked me what was wrong, and I just said that I loved you. And then I promised you."

"Promised me what?"

"That I would always take care of you, that I would protect you from everything bad in this world. But then we both started to grow up, and I was gone, and I think somewhere in all that time, I failed you."

"No, Kara-"

"Maybe it was a silly promise to make. After all, if nothing bad ever happened to you, how would you grow and learn from your mistakes?" She squeezed her cousin's hand. "But yes, Eiri, I failed you. And for that I am truly sorry. So yes, I promise and perhaps this time, I'll actually keep it."

Eiri was crying, tears flowing down her face, but she didn't make a sound. Kara pulled her forward, hugging her tightly, pressing her face into Eiri's blonde hair, trying in vain to recall the sweet scent of her youth. Images flashed through her mind, nostalgia sending her into a free-fall: Comforting a crying Eiri when she skinned her knee, coaxing her down from a tree branch that was just a little too high, catching her, holding her hand, picking up her up when she fell, wiping her tears away, braiding her hair with flowers, making her laugh, her eyes crinkling, her giggles the backdrop to many a northern summer. Now, there was only the smell of sweat and the stink of the sewer, and tears that she didn't know if she'd ever be able to wipe away, an oldness in the big blue eyes that would never fade with time. The giggles had gone from their world, replaced only by grim smiles and brief stars of hope in the dark, flaring brightly before going out. _I failed you, little one._

When she let go, Eiri had stopped crying. She wiped her face off and stood up straight, holding her head high.

"Are you all right?"

Eiri nodded. "We should go," was all she would say.

Kara just gestured for Eiri to lead the way. Eiri hurried down the steps, Kara at her heels. The wooden stairs swayed dangerously, but they made it safely to solid ground, their feet silent in the snow. They both stared ahead, earlier conversation momentarily forgotten.

Before them there was a statue, reaching all the way to the cavern's roof. It was the same statue as the picture Delvin had shown her: a horned man holding up a similar mask. At the foot of it, on a pedestal, was a strange assortment of half-frozen offerings: rusty boots, a slab of frost-bitten meat, rotted fruits, flowers long since dead in a bowl.

"So this is it," Kara said, looking over at Eiri, expecting her to be excited. She was frowning. "What?"

She pointed at the base of the statue. "Where's the dog?"

Suddenly, the entire cave rumbled. Dirt and drops of water fell from the ceiling as the floor beneath them shook. Kara reached out to grab Eiri, finding her hand and holding tight. It only lasted for a second, before stopping abruptly.

"What-?" Eiri asked, dropping Kara's hand and standing up straight. "That was-"

Kara had a split-second of warning: there was a sound like a sigh entering a room, and she felt a presence with them, before her hand burned like fire. She screamed, dropping to her knees in the snow, clutching at the bandages over her palm. The snow turned pink, Brynjolf's dried blood on her knees washing clean.

"_That,_" an echoing voice said, "is an excellent question."

Eiri knelt down beside Kara, one hand on her shoulder. She gazed up at the statue, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "What did you do to her?" she shouted.

"It is so very rare to find one of your kind marked by one of mine," the voice said in a lilting accent, sounding amused. "But I promise you, 'twas not I. No, your companion was marked by a dremora. Nasty sort, those."

"A dremora," Eiri said, looking down at Kara's hand. "Now _that_ I did not expect."

"What the hell is a dremora?"

"Later," Eiri mumbled, helping Kara back to her feet.

"Now, have either of you seen a dog anywhere?" Clavicus Vile asked. "If that idiot has gone and lost himself, I will be most unhappy. Unfortunately, whenever he's gone, I feel dreadful. Can't even manifest properly, and certainly not over long distances! What a fool he's being. All I meant was-"

"Lord Vile," Eiri said. In the span of just a few seconds, she seemed to have transformed, morphing from that little girl Kara knew into a formidable woman, a mage of considerable skill and power. The very air seemed to crackle with it, as her voice rang clearly in the cave. "We have not seen your dog. We've come here to make a request of you."

Clavicus Vile was silent for a moment, before he asked, "What is your heart's desire, child? What kind of deal can we strike?"

Kara gritted her teeth. Clavicus Vile was not what she had expected. She had thought he might be dark and scary, like she'd heard the daedra were. The only bad thing about Vile that she could sense was how annoying he sounded. His voice was nasally, every word seemingly mocking as he spoke it. In short, Kara thought he sounded like a prick.

"What kind of deal can you offer me?" Eiri asked, her voice coy. She batted her eyelashes.

Kara glanced at her, alarmed.

"All sorts, my dear, all sorts. What shall it be? The beauty to ensnare any heart? The power to crush those before you? The wits to rise above your peers? Tell Clavicus Vile, and your wishes will be granted."

"I have only one wish, Lord Vile, and that is for you to do the one thing you didn't say."

"And what's that?"

"Break the deal you have with my father!" Eiri's voice hardened, echoing, her words repeating back to them tenfold.

The moment the echoes ceased, Clavicus began to laugh. "Oh, isn't this _sweet_? A little girl, come to beg for her father's life. For he is dying, isn't he? Most do, when they deal with me. Well that's it, I'm afraid, no deal! If he was stupid enough to bargain with me, he deserves to die."

A cruel smile played on Eiri's lips, a look so foreign that Kara almost didn't recognize her. She struggled to remember her promise, but in that moment, she suddenly knew, between the mage and the Daedric Prince, who the frightening one really was.

"I thought you might say that." Eiri pulled a battered book out of her bag, tenderly opening it to a page.

Clavicus Vile's laughter grew. "Do you even know what forces you toy with, little girl? You cannot possibly think that will work, much less be able to read it in your unlearned mortal tongue."

Clearing her throat, Eiri began read. The words coming out of her mouth were unfamiliar to Kara, harsh and guttural, but Clavicus Vile seemed to recognize them. His laughter immediately fell silent, and when he next spoke, he sounded angry.

"You don't know what you are doing. Stop this immediately."

Eiri's voice grew louder, and a wind suddenly picked up around the cavern. The power in the room seemed to shift and change, the air tightening in Kara's lungs. Kara's hair blew around her shoulders, as she stared in fright at her young cousin. "Eiri, I think you should do as he says."

Eiri didn't answer, didn't stray. She just kept reading, her voice growing louder over the wind. A ring of fire suddenly erupted around her, roaring, shrieking like dozens of souls in pain, and Kara screamed too, reaching for her, but something held her back, some invisible force, and her right palm was stinging fiercely-

"_You are just a little girl,_" Clavicus screamed. He sounded anguished. "_You cannot - you will not-_"

Eiri's head snapped up, looking straight up at the statue. Her eyes were black, the air around her glowing orange like the fire. Her mouth kept moving, kept reading, but it was like she was possessed, like she wasn't even there.

"Eiri!" Kara shouted, but her voice was lost in the wind.

"Fine," Vile wailed, "I will release your father, just cease this madness!"

The wind halted all at once. The fire, however, did not diminish.

"Swear it," Eiri said, but it was in another voice, one dark and grating. A shiver raced up Kara's spine.

"I do," Vile said. "I swear it on my immortality, that I shall break the deal with your father and release him from his contract."

"I don't believe you. Give me your mask, so I know your words are true."

"I swore on my _immortality_, and you don't think I'm serious? Very well. Take the thing and be damned." There was a flash of blue light, before the mask appeared in the air, dropping into the snow with a clatter. The mask didn't vanish from his statue.

"My companions and I will leave this place unharmed."

"So do it then," Vile spat. "I no longer wish to look on you. Begone from my shrine, and never trouble me again!"

Eiri nodded slowly. "So shall we say, so shall it be." She closed the book and there was a blinding flash of white light.

Kara covered her eyes - there was that noise again, like a sigh, and the presence left - her hand stopped hurting - and then Eiri made a sound like a soft sob. Kara dropped her arm in time to see Eiri collapse in a ring of melted snow and blackened stone. The mask lay beside her.

"Eiri!" Kara ran to her, lifting her head. Gone was the fire and fright; now, she looked the same way she always had, her eyes closed, gold lashes swept low over her pale cheeks. The book was still in her hand, though barely. Glancing at it, Kara could see its page was written in strange runes and symbols. How Eiri had read from it, she had no idea. Actually, she had no idea what had happened at all, only that it looked dangerous. _How_ had Eiri done it?

There was time for that later. She took Eiri's book and the mask, stashing them in her bag. Before she did, she stared at the mask, at the horns and the swirls engraved on it. She didn't know when the charm was supposed to work, but all she felt was an overwhelming need to avert her eyes. She was all too happy to shove it away, out of sight, especially knowing the price it had been paid for. Though, if she was honest, she didn't _really_ know the price. Kara looked down at her unconscious cousin. She had just said she sometimes felt as though she didn't know anything. This was one of those moments.

"When we get back to Bruma," Kara said, lifting her small cousin, "I am going to have a very serious talk with Uncle Harald and Aunt Dagny about what they teach you up at that school…and who you're friends with."

She carried Eiri from the chamber, nearly falling in her trek back up the stream, and to the room where their friends were waiting.

Her promises cut her more deeply than any blade ever would.


	14. The Beginning of A Beautiful Friendship

**Didn't want to split this up, so have another long one. Two more after this!**

* * *

Normally, Kara might have thought being in a single room with two other females might have gotten on her nerves (and had, just the day before) but for now, it was nice. Eiri was resting in bed, about to fall asleep, while Kara read to her. Lydia stood beside the window, looking out into the cool night.

It was hard to believe it had only been two days since they'd tangled with a Daedric Prince. After limping back to Helgen, they'd transported back to the Ragged Flagon. Kara handed over the mask to Mercer, and disappeared with both Eiri and Lydia, back to her room at the Bee and Barb. Keerava seemed surprised to see yet another guest with her, but she hadn't said anything beyond an offer of food for the three of them and a cold compress for Eiri's head. It wasn't anything against the guild; Kara was just tired of being underground, and besides, if Eiri was going to heal quickly, she needed fresh air.

She slept the entire first day. As she did, Kara made good on her promise to Lydia and told her everything she knew, theorized on everything she didn't (there was a lot of that), debunked what she could, and answered every question the housecarl had, including the one asking if she'd return to Skyrim. She filed that under the things she didn't know.

The next morning, Eiri woke, demanding to know what had happened. She claimed no memory of the incident past initially talking with Vile, which was unfortunate, since Kara had planned on asking her what the hell it was she'd done. Remembering her promise, she told Eiri she didn't remember either. Her cousin actually seemed disappointed, asking what else Kara was good for. Eiri was clearly cranky and still feeling under the weather, so Kara gave her some stew Keerava had made before leaving Lydia to deal with her, heading for the Ragged Flagon to check on Brynjolf. He was fine, everybody was fine, especially Mercer. Gone were his rants about outsiders, replaced with rave excitement over Kara and her companions at their success in procuring the mask. With a heist in the works, things were looking up.

Before she left that evening to return to Eiri, Brynjolf pulled her aside. He inquired after Eiri, before saying, "Mercer wants to go tomorrow. Is she well enough to make that potion for her father?"

Kara nodded. "I'm sure she is. She just needed some rest. Besides, she'll want to get back as soon as possible." She didn't know why, but she found it very hard to look at him when she said this.

"All right. We'll leave tomorrow, and she can stay and do that here. Is that all right?"

She nodded again. "Lydia can stay, too. I think they've taken a liking to each other."

When she returned to the Bee and Barb, both Lydia and Eiri were asleep, one of them on the floor, the other in her bed. Kara wasn't tired at all; on the contrary, she felt restless, unable to think straight. She went for a walk, retracing the steps she'd taken with Brynjolf before they left for Helgen, climbing to the roof of Honorhall Orphanage as quietly as she could.

The stars were magnificent that night. It was Last Seed, the Warrior constellation glowing so brightly that Kara could easily pick out each of the stars, making the shape of the stalwart man with his axe and shield with her fingertips. Sometimes, her mother had sworn she was born under the sign of the Warrior, during the harvest season, because her temper was so short, but her father called her a winter child through and through, whatever that meant. She didn't want to think of him but alone, in the dark, staring up at the stars, what else was there to think about?

There were so many thoughts swirling around in her head. Had he known about her being Dragonborn? Would he believe her if she told him now? What would he want her to do? Better yet, what did she want to do? She didn't know. All she knew was that Eiri had done something potentially horrifying to save her own father, her newest friend (and possibly her only friend) had almost died, and she was seriously starting to doubt the decision she had made so staunchly when she arrived.

She was beginning to want to stay.

_But that's crazy._ I'm _crazy._

She stayed up there for hours, just thinking, wondering if - for some insane reason - there really was a place for her in the grand scheme of things after all.

When dawn came, she trudged back to the Bee and Barb. Lydia was already awake downstairs, tucking into some beef and potatoes while Keerava swept and yawned occasionally. An idea struck Kara so suddenly that she almost fell over; just as quickly, she stifled it. _Later._ She took the stairs two at a time, to see Eiri sleepily peering out of their room.

"Where were you?" she asked, eyes half-closed.

"Went out for a brisk morning stroll. You hungry?"

Eiri shook her head. "Later. Keerava promised me a bath, and then I'm going to the Ragged Flagon to work." She wore an expression that dared Kara to try and stop her.

Kara only nodded. "All right. I'm leaving Lydia here with you. She-"

"Wait, you're_ leaving_?"

"Well, yeah. You _did_ promise these people a heist. We have to keep to our word. We should be back tonight, provided you do that neat little transportation trick."

"Oh yes, of course. I'll meet you over there, shall I?"

Kara nodded. She headed back downstairs, where Lydia was finishing up. Ordering the same breakfast for herself, she quietly informed Lydia of the plan. Lydia vowed to protect Eiri with the same diligence as she would Kara, before leaving for the blacksmith's to fix her shield. Kara scarfed down her breakfast, surprisingly hungry after her night spent thinking. She ordered seconds, and was done by the time Eiri arrived in the common room, braiding her damp hair, her skin pink and freshly scrubbed.

"Ready?"

Kara nodded, flipping a few coins into Keerava's hand. "Thank you, for everything," she said. The Argonian woman looked confused, before nodding and smiling hesitantly. "Let's go."

Riften was just starting to wake when they crossed the bridge and hurried down the stairs to the canal. Down there, it was like a whole other world, still dim and covered in mist, silent save for the lapping water and occasional splash of a fish that had unwittingly filtered in from the lake. Kara remembered her unfortunate dive and made a face, speeding Eiri along into the Ratway. She wondered if she would ever get used to the stench.

Everyone was already awake and waiting. Vex glared at the two of them coming in as way of greeting, while everyone else voiced their hellos. Mercer was among them; he clapped his hands together when they neared.

"Ladies! Welcome. Are we all ready to go?"

Everyone nodded.

"Great. Now, we've tested out the mask. It does work - startlingly so - and that's why we'll be pulling this job in daylight. I'm sending Brynjolf, Vex, and Rune. And you," Mercer said, pointing at Kara. "You're going too."

Kara nodded. "Eiri and Delvin will stay here, to make sure the ring works. Lydia will arrive later too."

"Hey, I'm giving orders, not you," he said, frowning at Kara. Easing up, he glanced at Eiri. "Rune will be along in just a few minutes, and then you can teleport them away."

Kara tentatively raised her hand.

Mercer sighed, before raising an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

"You said you wanted me to do something on the heist."

"Oh! Right. Well, since the colossal fuck-up at the College, I've got contacts asking me what the hell is going on. So, this could work in our favor, if we act like we planned the entire thing. So when you go to Windhelm, since that's where you're going, before you leave, I want you to find the most eye-catching place in the city and paint a message from the Thieves Guild."

"What do you want the message to say?"

"Brynjolf, Vex, and Rune know. They'll show you."

"So what, you want me to stop and buy paint on the way?"

Mercer scowled. "Brynjolf tells me you can do magick. Figure something out."

"You can do it in fire," Eiri said helpfully, looking around. "I can show you right now before you leave. It's easy!"

"Says the girl who almost killed a Daedric Prince," Kara muttered under her breath, before nodding. "Yeah, sounds good."

It took her several tries, but she finally managed to create a long-lasting fire that stuck. After Vekel dumped water on the patch of stone they'd been practicing on, they all gathered their supplies. Just before Eiri started drawing her symbols on the floor, a tan Imperial with brown hair as long as Brynjolf's entered the room from the back, wearing armor similar to the sanctioned thieves. Kara stared.

"Where did he come from?"

"We still have _some_ secrets," Vex remarked, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry, lass. If you knew-"

"You'd have to kill me," Kara finished dryly. "Yes, I get it."

Rune just grinned at her. She was starting to think he had a nice face and smile - _for a thief_ - when Eiri finished up and the four of them stood back-to-back in a square in the center, arms locked. Unfortunately, Kara was beside Vex; any second, she expected the woman to reach over and stab her in the stomach. Luckily, they made it to Windhelm without any disputes, Brynjolf clutching the mask tightly.

When they arrived, it was mid-morning. They were outside the stables, but behind them this time, to avoid being seen. The four of them crouched down, heads bent together to strategize precisely how four people were going to pull over an entire city with just one mask.

"All right, the point here is to minimize damage," Brynjolf said, taking point. "Yes, we can charm people with the mask, but Windhelm is a big city, and there are bound to be collaterals who see us and report to the guard. So two of us will take the mask, and the other two will run a distraction." Vex glowered, opening her mouth to argue, but Brynjolf spoke over her. "We'll keep switching teams, so all of us will get a chance with the mask, and all of us will be working together. And yes, I know, neither of you wants to work together," Brynjolf said, glancing between Vex and Kara, "but this is a professional operation and I expect you to act that way. Camaraderie, understood?"

They all nodded, even Vex. They decided to meet at the New Gnisis Corner Club in the Gray Quarter every two hours, where the guards were loathe to go. If everything went smoothly, they'd be in town for a full six hours, and would have as much loot to boot. If they ended up with too much to carry, Brynjolf had already arranged for a "friend" of the guild's to be in the city and on the lookout. Everything seemed locked in place, just waiting for them to strike.

"Everyone understand?" Nods all around. "Excellent. To get it out of the way, Vex and Kara, you group up first as our distraction. Rune and I will hit the Gray Quarter so stay away. Maybe go bother Jarl Ulfric or something."

"It'd be my pleasure," Vex said, grinning. She was up and sprinting away without another word.

"Hey!" Kara went charging after her, and the day had officially begun.

Vex stopped once she reached the gate. "Here," she said, handing a hood to Kara. "Your identity is sacred. Keep it hidden, and that way, they won't know us from Brynjolf and Rune."

"Um, they might, should they notice you and I aren't over six feet tall."

"Oh, be quiet," Vex said, rolling her eyes. Pulling her own hood up, she led the way into the city.

They headed for Valunstrad, where the Palace of the Kings loomed over the rest of the city. Nerves jangled around in Kara like a symphony of brass pots, and she hoped Vex had a plan, especially when they rounded the stairs and there was an entire squad of Stormcloak soldiers standing there in formation.

"Oh, sh-"

Vex grabbed Kara's arm, squeezing hard. Her cuts were still tender, and she gasped. Vex dragged Kara back down the stairs, out of sight behind a wall.

"Oh, this is perfect," she breathed, peeking out around the wall.

"Let - go - of - me!" Kara growled, yanking her arm out of Vex's grip. "Was that necessary?"

"Between the two of us, I'm taking point, so yes, to get you to shut the hell up, it was. Now, I have an idea, and if you continue to shut your mouth, I'll share it with you."

Glaring silently, Kara nodded.

"All right. You ever hear of a feint?"

* * *

Kara waited until she saw a thin line of smoke curling up into the sky, and heard Vex's shrill screaming for the guards, before running. She sprinted as fast as she could to the Palace of the Kings. The guards that were normally posted outside were nowhere to be seen. The smoke in the sky grew heavier.

Kara burst into the palace, wheezing. The guards inside were missing too. Evidently their plan was working, but she had to go through with it anyway. Faking a limp across the stone floor, she made her way past the long wooden table covered in food to the throne across the room. Her heart was beating hard, not only from the running, but from the gravity of the distraction they were providing. If they saw through her, that was it: they'd throw her in the dungeons, and the entire plan would fall through. She swallowed hard, steeling her reserves, trying to look as much the proud Nord her father had once been.

Before she could reach the throne, a large man wearing a bear-skin as a cloak edged in front of her, separating her from the Jarl.

"What is your business here?"

"Message…for Jarl Ulfric…" she wheezed, holding up a piece of parchment. They'd found it crumpled in the bottom of Kara's bag. Using charcoal Vex had plucked out of a fire, they'd composed a fake message, claiming to be from the only other Stormcloak Kara knew.

A deep voice spoke from behind him. "Let her through, Galmar, she's exhausted."

Galmar did as he was bid, though he didn't look pleased about it. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak slouched on the throne, one hand beneath his chin as he gazed down at her. He certainly looked better than he had the last time Kara had laid eyes on him, his fair hair clean and his face free from soot and dirt. However, he still looked just as regal and imposing as he had that day at Helgen, with his hands and mouth bound, his eyes burning with rage. Kara dropped to one knee in front of him, holding her fist over her heart. The action felt strangely familiar, as if she'd done it before, but she knew she hadn't. Still, it seemed like the right thing to do, for Ulfric nodded at her.

"Stand up, girl. You look dead on your feet. Where have you come from?"

She thought of the lines Vex had fed her. "Ralof of Riverwood, my Jarl, a fellow Stormcloak. He bade me send you an urgent message. The Empire plans to advance on the Winterhold camp, he only just heard word of it today."

"What?" Ulfric stood, reaching for the parchment she held. "They wouldn't dare attack so nearby. Let me see that."

"He intercepted orders from an Imperial courier guarded by two soldiers. They're in there, as well."

"It's signed by Legate Rikke…" Ulfric fell silent, reading. That was the only name Vex could come up with; hopefully, it checked out. "This is very unusual, but it _would_ give them the element of surprise."

Galmar snorted. "This is precisely what they would try to do, to throw us off. It must be a distraction. Unless…" He suddenly narrowed his eyes, staring shrewdly at Kara. "Take your hood off, girl, let us see your face."

Kara hesitated for just a split second, remembering Vex's words. But if she needed to do it to go along with the plan, what did it matter? She pushed it off, letting it fall back around her neck. She didn't expect Ulfric to remember her - why would he? - but surprisingly, he nodded.

"Yes, I remember your face. Unblooded, weren't you?"

That sounded official, so Kara just nodded.

"Where were you stationed?"

She thought of Helgen. "Falkreath, my Jarl."

"Why aren't you wearing your armor?" Galmar cut in.

"I didn't want to be stopped on the road by Empire sympathizers," Kara made up on the spot. "I needed to get here as fast as I could, and if that meant masquerading as a citizen in desperate need of a horse or a cart ride, so be it."

Ulfric nodded again. "Resourceful." He looked at Galmar. "Now, are you satisfied?" When the other man shrugged, he went on. "To business, then: Split up that garrison outside. Dispatch half of them to the Winterhold camp, and the others to surround Windhelm. This could all be the precursor for a misguided attempt on my city."

"Yes, Jarl Ulfric," Galmar said, nodding. He folded one hand into a fist, holding it over his heart and bowing. He cast Kara one last suspicious look, before retreating.

Ulfric stepped down from his throne, laying a hand on Kara's shoulder. She resisted the urge to shove him away. "Your actions are commendable, soldier. Take some rest at Candlehearth Hall - tell them I sent you, and feel free to return to your garrison in the morning."

Suddenly the doors burst open: Galmar had returned, followed by a guard.

"That damned fire is spreading, Ulfric!" Galmar shouted. "This whelp needs more men!"

Ulfric was already on his way out of the room, through a side door. "Get every available guard whose hands are free to put it out and help evacuate. If it worsens, come to me again."

Galmar nodded, and the two disappeared again. Kara took that as her cue to vanish as well. She couldn't believe it had worked; on her way back to where she was supposed to meet Vex, she could have danced.

The fire raged for the better part of their two hours, blackening the empty mansion that stood at the end of Valunstrad. By the time the guards managed to put it out, the roof had caved in and the upper floor was badly damaged. More than twenty guards stood around it, covered in soot and sweating, despite the chill air. Vex and Kara watched from the house across the lane, the two of them crouched on the roof.

"You know, you might be a bitch, but you're kind of a genius," Kara said.

Vex only smiled, her expression smug.

After cleaning up, the guards had to quell the crowd of onlookers, directing them back to their homes, and stationing a few to watch the area. "We're going to find who did this," one of them said fiercely. "We'll get them!"

Vex snickered. "You'll try."

Half an hour later, they climbed down and headed for the Gray Quarter, taking back alleys, though Windhelm seemed deserted now, with the fire the main attraction. Brynjolf and Rune were waiting, both of them slouched against the wall beneath the sign for New Gnisis.

"How'd it go?" Vex asked, glancing around for loot.

"Swimmingly." Brynjolf grinned. "Quit looking, it's been stashed with Torsten."

"Good haul?"

"Enough. I take it the fire was your doing?"

"Yeah," Vex said proudly, before glancing at Kara. "Though, I only did it as our own personal distraction for Kara here. Tell 'em what you did!"

Kara recounted the Stormcloak impersonation. Rune laughed, but Brynjolf looked concerned.

"He saw your face?"

Kara nodded. "I figured leaving the hood up would blow my cover. He didn't remember Helgen or anything, but he seemed to know he had seen me before."

Rune looked between the two of them. "Am I missing something here?"

"Long story," Vex said, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Bryn, it worked in her favor. If he thought he'd seen her before, he would've imagined it would've been her recruiting or whatever it is they do."

"Well, all right. But that was still dangerous! We're trying to minimize collateral damage here. Which, speaking of, did anyone get hurt in that fire?"

Vex shook her head. "I did it to that old manor down the end of Valunstrad. Hjerim, or whatever it's called."

"All right, good decision. Now, we should probably keep going. The longer we stay in one place, the more likely we are to be caught. Right lass?" Kara frowned at that obvious reference to her imprisonment, but didn't say anything. "Vex, you ready? You're up."

Vex nodded eagerly.

Kara glanced at Rune. "Looks like it's you and me."

Rune smiled. "That suits me fine."

"Right, we'll do the Stone Quarter and the market," Brynjolf said, pulling the mask out of his bag. "You two try and distract what few guards are left before they're done sorting out that fire."

"Will do, boss." Rune gestured for Kara to follow him, and they jogged off down the street. "So we've never really officially met before - I'm Rune." He offered her a hand.

She shook, smiling slightly. "I've briefly heard of you from Brynjolf. I'm Kara."

"Good things, I hope. I heard you were a consulting thief working with Mercer to help us get back on our feet."

"You did, huh?" Kara's face went sour.

"I'm guessing it's not true."

"What gave it away?"

"Few things, actually." Rune stopped at a building at the very end of the Gray Quarter, where it merged with the Stone Quarter. From where they stood, Kara could see the guards at the front gate. Vex and Brynjolf were nowhere to be found.

"One," Rune said, stooping to grab a handful of snow. "Your face right now when I said that." He began packing the snow tightly into a ball. "Two, there's been a lot of strange happenings with the guild lately, with Brynjolf telling us to stay out of the Flagon." He gently set the ball down, grabbing more snow. "Three, this young girl showed up out of the blue. And four, we tend not to work with outsiders, especially if there's nothing in it for them. Add it all up, and it doesn't really come out to the official story."

Kara could see where he was going with the snowballs; she bent down to lend a hand. "Well, that young girl is my cousin. You hear about her asking around for Delvin?"

He nodded.

"I won't get into the whole story, but she was in some deep shit back in Cyrodiil. I came to help get her out of it. Conveniently, I just happen to be a thief, so Mercer and I decided to work together if he would help me get her home."

Rune smiled. "And suddenly everything makes much more sense. So this is all part of it?"

"Yep, just another deal beneath the table. But this is where my contract ends. After this, I take Eiri home."

Rune looked up at her, hands pausing. "You're leaving?"

"After this, yeah."

"Oh. The way Brynjolf talked about you, I thought you were going to stay. You got a guild back home or something?"

Kara shook her head. She'd be lying if she said the thought hadn't crossed her mind. When she had first gotten out of prison, her intentions were to give up that life and go to Bruma, becoming a simple town girl helping out family. After all, with Eiri spending weekdays at the college, surely Uncle Harald and Aunt Dagny could use a spare pair of hands around the house. It was honest work and a good place to settle down. Or, so she had told herself the entire way back up north from the Imperial City.

But then Eiri had run away, and in chasing her, Kara discovered a whole other world, and a small group of people she was beginning to like, in spite of herself. Now that she had lived among them, sharing their food, sleeping beneath their roof (if she could call it that), the game had changed and she no longer knew what choice was right. Two paths stretched out before her. Down one, she could probably _make_ herself be happy, find a good man, build a home, be forgotten by the passing of time. Down the other, she would be happy, but it was a reckless life, an unsafe one, full of deceit and danger. She knew where each would end: A complacent grave, or a jail cell at the end of the earth. She couldn't decide which was worse.

Kara decided not to answer Rune, choosing that moment to load up on their ammunition. "Right, so what's the plan?"

"I'm going to guess Vex gave you the strategic feint talk." Kara nodded. "Girl loves her warfare. Must be the Imperial blood."

She frowned. "But aren't you-?"

"Yeah, but I'm different. Anyway, yours was a bit of a feint attack. Ours will be more of a feint retreat."

"Which is?"

"Pissing them off until they chase us, leaving the Quarter empty for Vex and Brynjolf."

"Sounds good to me. This pissing them off wouldn't have anything to do with all the snowballs we've just made, would it?"

Rune grinned. "And the Empire says Nords are stupid."

She didn't bother to correct him.

* * *

Two hours and what felt like two hundred snowballs later, Kara was ready to call it a day. Her hands were freezing, her armor was wet, and her body ached from running and jumping over buildings in the Gray Quarter, playing keep-away with the guards. She had to agree with Rune on some level: the guards who kept trying to catch them _were_ pretty stupid. None of the townsfolk seemed bothered by two people running over their rooftops; in fact, they seemed amused. It was the side effects of the mask, Rune said, it left them a little loopy.

It was the mask that kept Kara from bowing out entirely. When Vex and Brynjolf arrived, arguing over who got what loot, excitement buzzed through her, for it was finally her turn. She felt both annoyed and pleased with Brynjolf for making her go last, but since it was her job to leave the message - the grand finale - a part of her understood.

Vex and Rune decided to stay in the Gray Quarter. Vex was talking about lighting doors on fire and knocking, but Rune had some other plan that would involve less smoke and danger. Kara could already tell, watching them walk away, that Vex didn't like it.

"We're hitting Valunstrad. It'll be tough, since Vex drew so much attention to it, and because I think some people are starting to catch on," Brynjolf said, hurrying down an alley.

"What makes you say that?" Kara asked, jogging to keep up.

"Look," Brynjolf said, pointing as they turned a corner. Guards were standing about in the Stone Quarter, talking to a handful of citizens. They seemed to be complaining of memory loss and missing possessions, and since there were so many of them experiencing the same thing, the guards couldn't ignore it. Luckily, however, they seemed stumped so far as to what the problem was.

"Shit. How are Vex and Rune going to-" She stopped talking immediately, as Vex came running around the corner. She was barefoot, and in the process of tearing off all her clothes.

"It's so hot out here," she sang gaily. "I'm taking off my clothes! It's too hot for them, and I'm sweaty!" Her voice carried, echoing around the Stone Quarter. She laughed happily, before dancing towards the Palace of Kings and out of sight.

Every single guard and citizen stared after her. "Maybe you should check on that," someone suggested, and everyone thundered off.

Brynjolf chuckled. "She's not a shy one, I'll give her that. I only hope if she is getting naked that she doesn't get frostbite. I remember one time-"

"Brynjolf, I don't think now is the time."

"Oh, right! Of course, lass. Come on."

They snuck across the Stone Quarter, down to the finer avenue of Valunstrad. Normally, it was the lovely side of town, obviously more upscale, with large manors encircled by well-kept gardens and threatening fences, but now the mansion at the end darkened the entire pretty picture, still smoking slightly, burned pieces of wood littering the street. Several guards had set up a perimeter, keeping citizens away. Just the sight of them made Kara nervous.

They slipped into a lane between two of the houses, one of which was unfenced. Brynjolf glanced at her, measuring her up. She hoped she didn't look as nervous as she felt.

"You ready?"

"I think so. How is this all going to work?"

"You're going to wear the mask. It'll make me a little odd, since no one's immune to it - you should have seen Rune; I could've had him doing backflips, if I wasn't worried he'd hurt himself - so just tell me to do the job, and I'll do it. Any questions?"

"No, I think I'm good. It just makes you really charming, right?"

"More like irresistible. These people will do whatever we say."

Kara glanced at him, alarmed. "_Anything _I say?"

"Yep. That's probably the downside to this being a daedric artifact. Should've known there wasn't much good in it."

"So if I told them to kill each other-"

"They would, to make you happy." Brynjolf's green eyes were shrewd. "But you're not planning on doing that, are you?"

Kara shook her head mutely.

"Good, because-"

"Hey!" There were footsteps behind them from the street, urgent and determined… Unless Kara was mistaken, it was a guard. If they didn't escape, he was going to know precisely who they were, and what they were doing there.

Kara cursed, turning to run.

Brynjolf grabbed her by the back of her armor and yanked her back. "Do you trust me?"

"I - what? Is now really the time to analyze our friendship?"

Brynjolf shook his head quickly. "No, Kara. _Do you trust me_?"

"I guess. Why?"

"Be quiet." He tore his hood down, before pushing hers back off her face. Before she had a chance to question him, he nudged her back against the wall of the house, grabbed her by the arms, and kissed her.

Kara's eyes stretched wide, and she made a sound in the back of her throat. His hands tightened on her arms, silently urging her to play along. The footsteps got closer, and she could see a shadow stretching towards them from the main street; she closed her eyes and kissed him back just as fiercely.

Time seemed to slow. She wasn't sure who lost the game first, but it didn't take long for it to stop feeling like an act. His hands loosened on her arms, sliding up to cup her cheeks, to touch her neck with his fingertips, ghosting over her pulse points, his skin so warm against hers that she shivered. His lips were chapped from rough living, from the weather, but they felt_ right_. Without even realizing she'd done it, she reached her hands up, tangling her fingers in his long red tresses, parting her lips for him. His tongue touched hers, sending a slick heat coiling through her.

"Hey, you two can't be here, this area's restric- oh." The guard standing at the mouth of the alley cleared his throat. "Excuse me, you two. If you could, ah…"

Brynjolf surfaced first, turning his body towards the guard, one hand still holding onto Kara. Strands of her hair clung to his fingers, curls entwining him, almost pulling him back. She was flushed, her chest heaving as she tried to take a full breath.

"Sorry to interrupt," the guard said, grinning. "But you can't be over here, not until we get the street cleaned up. Find an alternative way home, and uh, finish up there."

While they talked, Kara slowly reached behind her with one hand, feeling for the hilt warm against her back.

"Yes, of course," Brynjolf said, smiling dazedly. "Our apologies."

The guard nodded. "Believe you me, it happens all the time. It's cold up here, and once the mead gets flowing… Well, you know."

"That I do."

The guard nodded and left them alone. There was a split-second of near silence, just the two of them breathing, before Brynjolf turned back to her, leaning in. His hand slid down from her cheek to her shoulder, before he suddenly froze. He looked down through his lashes, grinning when he saw the dagger in her hand, angled up towards his ribcage.

"Ah, lass. And here I thought you trusted me."

Kara narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, so did I. Now, go ahead and take your hands off me."

Brynjolf did as she said, still smiling. He took a giant step backward, holding his hands up, like it was all just some game they were playing. It was no game the way she felt weak at the knees, the way her heart was racing, the way she could still taste him in her mouth.

"If you ever do that again, I will be all too happy to shove this directly into your gut. Understand?"

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad."

"I'm serious."

"What would you have done?"

Kara couldn't answer, because she knew, it was just business. He seemed so flippant about it all, she decided to be the same, pretending it was nothing. If Vex could set a house on fire and get naked in public, Kara could kiss Brynjolf._ It's just business._

She opted not to answer. They broke into the house nearest them, preferring to smash a window than go out into the street. Once they were inside an upstairs bedroom, Brynjolf handed her the mask and began shoving things in his bag, seemingly at random. He ducked down to peer beneath the bed, while she stared at the mask in her hands. She wasn't sure what Eiri had done to pay for it, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know, even now. Eiri seemed happy to forget, so maybe it was best for Kara to do the same. Ignorance was safer, a way to protect the both of them from scarred hearts. She glanced at Brynjolf out of the corner of her eye, as he pulled out a dusty strongbox and picked it open. _Maybe some things are just better left unsaid._

He felt her gaze and looked up. "Well, what are you waiting for? Put it on! Oh, and don't make me do anything stupid for the kiss thing, all right?"

"What, like jump naked into a freezing cold lake?"

"If you want to see me naked, you can just ask."

"_I'd_ rather jump in the lake."

Brynjolf laughed, gesturing for her to put it on. "Go on, then. We've wasted enough time."

Taking a deep breath, she turned the mask over in her hands, holding it up to her face. It was cold against her skin, and it made her face tingle. Somehow, it was a perfect fit.

At first, she didn't feel anything. Then, as she opened her eyes, everything seemed brighter, and she felt good, she felt _wonderful_. The magick that had always been difficult for her came easily, swirling around her, ripe for the taking, begging to be used. She called forth flames to her hands without any effort, without an instant of pain. Behind the mask, she smiled.

When Brynjolf looked at her, he smiled in a lazy manner. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

She could say anything. She could make him _do _anything. She could make him get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. She could make him do cartwheels around the room. She could make him forget his "business first" attitude and make him kiss her again, one for each time she'd ever thought about it in the back of her mind. For one of the first times in her life, she had complete control. Briefly, she wondered what Vex had done while wearing the mask, before brushing the thought away. She wasn't Vex, there was no doubt of that, but she couldn't stop her heart from wanting, even now when she desired so badly to use the mask for every bad idea she'd ever had.

But she didn't like the way he was looking at her. It wasn't Brynjolf, it was some specter of his real self. _Charmed_, she thought to herself. _He's charmed, he can't help himself._ The rush that had gone to Kara's head ebbed.

"Keep looting," she finally said, her voice cracking. "Anything of value, I want you to take."

He nodded.

Kara left him upstairs, and heard him knock something over. It fell with a crash, and there were surprised voices downstairs.

She met them on the landing, a man and a woman. At first, they seemed surprised to see her, before the fear melted from their faces. "Who are you?" the woman asked tonelessly.

"I am…" Kara hesitated, thinking of what Mercer had wanted, of what Delvin had said. _We could pull over an entire city, and they would just let us._ "I am a spirit of giving," Kara intoned. "You are over-burdened with material possessions. I have come to free your souls."

"Yes," the woman said, nodding. Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality. "Free us."

"Free us," the man echoed faintly.

"We shall take the possessions you no longer need," Kara said.

"Yes, take them. Get rid of them."

"You are kind people-" Kara started, before there was another shadow on the stairs below. A little girl walked into sight, staring up at the three of them. Her mouth hung open, at first in fright, before the expression on her face turned to pure wonder. Her eyes were grey. Kara felt slightly sick.

"Mama, who is that?"

"The spirit," her mother said, her voice hushed. "The spirit of giving."

Kara took one step down, her eyes locked on the girl. "What's your name, little one?"

"Maru."

"Maru. How pretty." Kara turned her eyes on the couple before her. The man before her was fair, just like another father she knew. She thought of Eiri, coming all this way, doing all these things, to save the man who had raised her and loved her, who had given up everything to make her happy. "You," she said bitterly. "You could never stand to be around them for long enough to make her happy, could you? You were too wild, too free. You couldn't even love them properly, and you left them alone."

The man's brow furrowed. "Left…who?"

"Your wife. Your daughter. They needed you, and you turned your back on them for cheap thrills. You were never there when they needed you."

"I wasn't?"

"No, but you will be now, won't you?"

"Yes, I…I will."

"Spend more time with your family. Cherish them."

"Yes, I shall."

"Swear it."

He did.

Kara suddenly thought of something Eiri had told her once, just before she'd left to go with her father. _"Sometimes,"_ she had said, _"sacrifice is the greatest gift you can give."_ Kara hadn't understood it then, thinking Eiri was crazy and too religious for her own good, but now she was beginning to think she understood, if barely.

"Do you work?"

The man nodded slowly.

"Work less. Money is just a thing. Your daughter's eyes will not shine for you forever."

The man nodded again. "Yes. Maru… She is everything."

"Yes, she is."

There was a banging above, and Brynjolf came stumbling to the top of the stairs. "Finished."

Kara nodded. To the couple she said, "You'll forget you saw us after my friend and I leave - but you will not forget your promise. Repeat it."

The man repeated the conditions of his oath. Then, walking directly out the front door into the weak sunlight, Kara and Brynjolf moved on to the next house.

* * *

Later that afternoon, the four of them stood at the front gates of Windhelm. A small crowd of smiling people stood behind them near the inn, guards and citizens alike. Kara still wore the mask.

Calling forth her magick, she recreated the spell that Eiri had shown her. She envisioned the symbol on her mind, her hands feeling nothing but the cool tickling of flames. There was a great roaring sound, followed by several gasps from the crowd and some clapping.

When Kara opened her eyes, a great burning symbol was etched into the stone ground of Windhelm, directly in front of the gates. It was a slim upright diamond, and in the center, there was a circle. It was the sign of Skyrim's Thieves Guild, and it glowed brightly, letting every single person know what had happened there that day.

_The Thieves Guild was here._

And when the four of them walked out the gates to meet Torsten across the bridge - where he was waiting with five sacks of prime loot - nobody tried to stop them and everyone waved goodbye.


	15. There's No Place Like Home

Mistveil Keep was nearly empty that early in the morning, the only people present the Jarl and her family as they ate breakfast at the expansive table taking up the most space in the hall. Kara stood beyond, as two servants knelt between her and the table, stoking the fire in the pit.

"So you've come for your boon," Jarl Laila said, breaking a piece of bread in half.

Kara nodded. "Yes, Jarl Law-Giver. I've thought it over very long and hard." That was a lie - the idea had only occurred to her two days before, when she saw Keerava in the Bee and Barb, but it didn't matter, because she still wanted what she was about to ask for. _And I guess it's for a pretty good cause, if it means Keerava won't miss me as much._ The Argonian had already become emotional once already; when she and Eiri were actually going to leave later that day, Kara was afraid she might drown Riften in her tears.

"And what would you ask of me?"

"Three flawless amethysts."

If the hall had been quiet before, it was eerily silent now. Even the servants were staring at Kara, confused.

"Three flawless amethysts?" Jarl Laila frowned. "Why three?"

"A friend of mine needs them to make a wedding band for his beloved. I would never have requested this otherwise."

"Ah, I see. Well, your request, regardless of how unusual it may be, is granted."

She snapped her fingers at one of the servants; she bowed and departed, hurrying away to the keep's private rooms. When she returned, she was holding a small velvet pouch, as black as the night sky. The Jarl took the pouch, standing up and moving around the table to personally hand them to Kara. She undid the drawstring, upending the pouch in Kara's palm. Three uncut amethysts fell out, heavy in her hand. They were a deep purple, glimmering in the early light of morning.

"Are they acceptable?"

Kara nodded. "Quite." She dipped her head, taking the pouch and sliding them back inside, tying it tightly. "Thank you, Jarl Laila. You are most gracious."

"Though we have been removed from your debt, Riften will always be grateful for what you've done. You are welcome back whenever you see fit to return."

Kara stifled a grin, wondering what those at the Ragged Flagon would say if they heard that. "Thank you. Now, I'll leave you to your meal."

"Safe travels, Dragonsbane."

Kara paused at the title, before she kept walking, out into the last morning she would spend in Riften.

Kara sat down at the base of the newly repaired stairs, just to take in the city one last time. The damage that had been done when she had fought the dragon was still mostly there, but they were working on it. Riften was healing and so was the Thieves Guild. The symbol in Windhelm had been news all across Skyrim, and whispers of the guild's imminent return had begun. Mercer was as gleeful as a child at a New Life festival, having many jobs and requests to meet pouring in from old contacts that had once shunned them. And it was mostly thanks to Kara.

Eiri had brewed the potion for her father, nearly sending herself into an exhausted delirium. Her mother had answered a letter she had sent them when she'd arrived, saying he was still alive, if barely, still very sick and weakening every day. Despite that, Eiri took it as good news that they weren't too late, and had demanded to leave as soon as possible. The ring was Delvin's, and he had even paid Eiri a healthy cut of the money for it. She already planned to give the septims to her parents to get them back on their feet. She still didn't remember what had happened with Clavicus Vile, and Kara intended to keep it that way; she hadn't seen her cousin in such high spirits in years, and it was a nice change. Perhaps she hadn't broken her promises after all.

After the heist, Kara too had been given a small cut from Mercer, who had thanked her for her involvement. She too already had an idea of what she would do with it.

She had already said goodbye to everyone at the Flagon, and Rune, whom she had greatly enjoyed working with. Vex didn't smile but nudged her with one shoulder appreciatively, and Sapphire managed a slightly less-than-hostile smirk, so Kara had a feeling that she'd done okay in their eyes. Not that she cared or anything.

The only things left to do were say goodbye to Talen-Jei and Keerava, say goodbye to Brynjolf, and leave. For the moment, however, she just wanted to sit and enjoy the brisk morning air, the smell of bread baking, the sound of the lake water lapping in the distance and Balimund working tirelessly at his forge as he always was, to the sound of birds calling overhead, flying free. Kara closed her eyes, letting the sun warm her face, a breeze teasing her wild curls, one falling directly over her eye. For once, she didn't mind.

She would miss it there.

When the sun approached mid-morning, Kara stood, stretching, and made her way to the Bee and Barb. It was less empty than usual, with the regulars at work in between the breakfast and lunch rushes. Kara was grateful; it gave her the time to say goodbye to the Argonian proprietors separately, genuinely. She started with Talen-Jei in the kitchen, thanking him for everything. He seemed taken aback, but nodded along, happy to help. She slipped the velvet pouch into his apron pocket without him even noticing. It would be a wonderful surprise for him later, when he stuck his hand inside.

Keerava was restocking drinks behind the bar. Wordlessly, Kara grabbed some bottles and gave her a hand, filling the shelves, neither of them saying a word. Finally, Keerava picked up the empty crate and stood, sighing.

"Of all the people to stay here since we opened, you were my favorite."

Kara smiled, looking around. "It's really a great place."

"It's not, but I'm glad you think so. Are you sure we can't convince you to stay? Talen and I could always use an extra pair of hands."

"It's a very tempting offer, but I need to get my cousin home. Thanks for looking after her. Hell, thanks for looking after _me_."

"When you first arrived, I didn't trust you. Something about Riften just doesn't lend friendliness to shopkeepers, if you know what I mean. The Thieves Guild runs this town with Maven Black-Briar at their spearhead, but I think while you were here, you made it better. You made me realize I can trust some people. You're one of the good ones."

Kara's heart sank slightly, her smile faltering. "I'm really not, Keerava. I've never been one of the good ones."

"No, you are. Even if you don't see it, I believe you'll learn where your heart lies. I believe in you." The woman pulled her into a hug, and Kara didn't resist. She hugged her back tightly, sneakily slipping the bag of septims Mercer had given her into Keerava's pocket. Both she and Talen-Jei would be surprised, but she had a feeling they'd known who the giver had been, and hopefully they'd finally get married, whether she got to see it happen or not.

Kara ducked out just before the lunch rush, feeling lighter than she had in months. She didn't think she'd changed much, but she knew that somewhere along the way, she'd learned some things, and regardless of whether she liked the lifestyle, Kara was certain that alone would've made her mother proud.

She was just heading for the Ratway, when she saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye. She glanced towards Honorhall Orphanage, before smiling slowly.

When she pulled herself up onto the roof, Brynjolf was waiting for her, sitting up, facing the east. She sat down beside him, drawing her knees up and smoothing her pants. They sat in silence for a long while, just far away enough that they weren't touching, but close enough that Kara was comforted by the presence of a friend.

Finally, Brynjolf spoke. "So when are you leaving?"

"After I say goodbye to you. Uncle Harald can't wait much longer."

He nodded. "Well, it was certainly an interesting experience, meeting you… whatever-your-surname-is girls. You're strong, lass, you and Eiri both. Whether you think it or not, you've got good blood in you."

"Despite some of it being Imperial?"

"Hey, I don't discriminate. I think every little individual bit of you is there for a reason, Kara. If you didn't have that Imperial and Nord blood dancing around in you, you wouldn't be the same girl." He shrugged. "And who knows? Maybe you're living proof that this war is pointless, that the Empire and Skyrim can exist in harmony."

"Do you really believe that?"

"We all believe what we want to, lass, whether it's right or not."

"And what do you want to believe?"

He turned to look at her. "That one day, you'll come back. It was quite the adventure, getting to know you, becoming your friend."

Kara sighed. "Yeah, it was fun, and I really do like it here. But there's so much that is still very unknown to me. I think the best thing I can do is get Eiri back home and focus on family for a while. Maybe that'll help clear my head, and show me what path I should take."

"Only you can decide that."

"I know."

"Well, if your path leads you back here, just know there's always a place for you here. I don't know if Mercer told you, but if you decide to come back, there will be a position waiting for you."

"Wow. He didn't. I…I don't know what to say."

"It's just an option, if you ever want to come back."

"Tell him I say thank you, it's very generous. But like I said, I have a lot to think about."

"Aye, you do. But you'd better get going." Brynjolf stood, helping Kara to her feet as well. "Like you said, your uncle can't wait any longer and I am personally not a fan of long goodbyes."

"Nor am I."

"Well, better make this quick then."

"You're right." Weeks had passed, and they'd saved each other numerous times. If there was any way to build a friendship, Kara was certain that was it. And yet... She took a deep breath. "Thank you, Brynjolf. For saving my life, for being my friend, and most importantly, for helping me and my family."

Brynjolf bent at the waist, taking Kara's hand and brushing his lips against her fingers. She watched him, entranced. "It was my pleasure, lass," he said as he straightened.

"I can never repay you." She tried not to fuss with her hand too much, but she could still feel the pressure of his lips against her skin. She knew she should say something, but what was the point?

"We'll work something out if you come back. Maybe open you a tab."

Kara's smile returned, and she punched him in the arm. "It was fun."

"That it was. Goodbye, lass."

"Goodbye, Brynjolf." She stopped just before she climbed down over the side. "And for the record, Eiri and me - our surname is Skjarnor."

Then she was climbing down and heading back into town. She turned when she got to the marketplace, intending to wave one final goodbye to him, but he was already gone.

* * *

Kara and Eiri had packed up what few belongings they had into the back of a carriage. Lydia, too, had decided to make the journey with them, though she would be stopping in Whiterun. "I'm ordering you to keep an eye on things for me there," Kara had told her. "If I come back, I'll need someone to fill me in." Lydia wasn't happy about it, but she had agreed. Though they still didn't see eye to eye, Lydia was starting to grow on her.

The driver waited patiently for them to get their belongings settled and to get seated so they could be off. Kara had been hopeful, but the driver was not Bjorlam.

She looked back as they set off on their way, watching Riften grow smaller and smaller in the distance, until the road wound, curving like a snake, and she could no longer see it through the thick trees. The Rift was beautiful, orange leaves falling from every branch, covering the grassy ground, the light golden and rich. Vaguely, Kara recalled an image of an overgrown house in a clearing like the forest around them, blue flowers growing beside it. She didn't speak, looking around instead, lost in thought.

"Do you think you'll come back?"

Kara looked over at Eiri. "Hm?"

"To Riften, to Skyrim in general. You seemed to really like it there, and you _were_ born here. Don't you think you might like to come back?"

Lydia looked over at her as well, waiting for her answer. Kara shrugged. "I guess. It's just that when I go back, I want to have more figured out. I want to know what I'm doing, what I'm up against. You know?"

Eiri smiled. "You just said _when_ you go back, not if."

"I meant if."

"Oh, Kara," Eiri said loudly, stretching her arms and placing them behind her head. "When will you just admit that you're a good person who has morals and cares?"

"When the sun shines in hell."

"Well, they'd better find some shade, because it's about to get very bright there. You're going to the Greybeards, aren't you?"

Lydia looked _very_ interested now. Kara scowled. "No, I'm not. I'm going to get you home, and figure things out from there."

"And here I thought you were a good liar." Eiri closed her eyes, settling down to nap. "You know Kara, sometimes sacrifice-"

"-is the greatest gift. Yeah, I know. You know what I else I know? How annoying _you _are."

Eiri smiled slightly but didn't say anymore.

Kara glared the entire way to Whiterun, but made a mental note to unearth some warmer clothes when she got to Bruma. Winter was on its way, and she had a distinct feeling - not a firm decision, but a _feeling_ - that she was going to need them.

* * *

**Bit of a short one, but as things are winding down, that's just the way it is. One more after this! **


	16. Show Me The Septims!

_Morning Star_

It was dusk when Kara arrived at Riften's North Gate, the sun descending over distant mountains in a blaze of fire.

She nudged her horse into the stables, untying the large rucksack from the saddle, slinging it over her back. She carried her bow and quiver in her hands, digging around in one of her pockets for the modest lodging fee, dumping several septims in the hands of a Redguard.

"Hey, I remember you," he said, blinking at the coins before looking up at her. "You're the dragonslayer, the one who helped me out of trouble with Sapphire."

"Yeah, Shadr, right? I remember." _My, how time flies._ "She still giving you trouble?"

He shook his head, smiling. "You're a godsend."

"That's what they say!" She clapped him on the shoulder, before ducking out of the stables. She popped back for a second, poking her head in. "Oh, and Shadr? Happy New Life."

"And you as well!"

Kara smiled.

Twilight settled over Riften as she walked the familiar streets, remembering her escapades now four months past. It seemed so long ago and yet, at the same time, like only yesterday that she too was walking the planks of weatherworn bridges and looking up at the majestic spires of Mistveil Keep.

People were everywhere, doors flung wide open, the promise of free ale from every tavern in Tamriel for the holiday drawing them from their homes with cheer. She looked around as she moved among them, a spectator, a shadow, eyeing the city she'd left behind. The wreckage she'd left in her wake - crumbled stairs and walls - had been fixed. Even the roof of the Bee and Barb had been repaired, along with the rest of it, looking far less shabby than it had in Last Seed. All that remained in disarray was the well, still missing its latticed walls and carved roof. She wondered if she should flip a septim in. She wondered if the Thieves Guild would find it.

Pushing through the crowd, she entered the Bee and Barb's crowded common room. Keerava, the proprietor, was still hard at work behind the bar where Kara had left her. Kara was disappointed, as it was clear that a lovely gold and amethyst ring was _not_ adorning one of her fingers.

"Well, are you having fun or what?" Kara asked, grinning.

Keerava slowly turned, squinting. "Is that-? It _is_ you!" She threw down her rag, running around the bar, pulling Kara into a tight hug. Kara gasped, eyes watering, as several of the homemade arrows sticking out of her quiver jabbed straight into her chest, crushed between them.

"It's good to see you, too," she managed.

Keerava released her, and Kara rubbed at the spot on her ribs. "I'm so happy you're back! Wait until Talen hears. What you did for us… You really are an extraordinary girl, Kara. We wanted to wait actually, to get married, but I think the real reason both of us kept pushing it back was because we were hoping you'd return." She smiled.

"Well, where's the ring, then? I'd like to see it!"

"Oh, I don't want to ruin it! But it's here." She reached into the neckline of her dress, pulling out the leather throng around her neck. The ring was strung on it, shining and beautiful, just as Kara had known it would be.

"Now that you've returned, we'll do it! We want you there. You've given us so much, it's only right."

"Flatterer. But yes, I would be honored. On one condition."

Keerava nodded. "Yes, anything!"

"Give me my old room back? Something a little more permanent, if that's all right with you."

"You're…living here?" Keerava's eyes looked ready to fall out of her head.

Kara nodded. "Just until I can afford a place of my own. Until then, I need _somewhere_ to go, and I'd prefer…" She thought of the Thieves Guild, of their home in their sewers, all the walls and low-hanging ceilings of dank stone. She suppressed a shiver. "Well, if I could sleep out under the stars, I would, but a girl needs a roof every now and again."

"Of course! I'll tell you what: Talen and I were just thinking about doing some more renovating with what's left of the money you gave us. We could knock out a wall, give you two rooms - after all, we have plenty others - so you could have your own wash area, and you wouldn't have to share with the other guests."

"That sounds absolutely delightful. And I'm all too happy to lay down the first three months' payment."

Keerava's eyes widened even more, if that was possible. "Oh, you know I can't have you pay! Not after what you've given us."

"I'm not going to rob you of two rooms." Kara narrowed her eyes. "I _will_ pay you, Keerava, if I have to hide the septims where I know you'll find them."

Keerava waved her hands at Kara in a dismissive gesture, smiling. "Well, how about you go up there, settle in, have a drink, celebrate New Life, and we'll talk about all of this tomorrow?"

"You know, I did ride for quite a while. That sounds like a great idea." Kara hugged Keerava once more, shuffling past a group of cackling Nords, and up the stairs.

The room was empty, everything the way Kara had left it. She wondered who had stayed there in her absence, what had gone on inside. _Doesn't matter, it's mine now._ She set her rucksack down, storing her bow and quiver beneath the bed, like she used to. Making sure she had her dagger at her back, she reached up to touch one of the braids in her hair, before leaving the room.

_There's someone I need to find._

Kara got a free bottle of Black-Briar mead from Keerava on her way out the door, and she merged with the crowd, surveying the night. The moon was rising, the stars alive. It was cold, but nobody seemed to notice, bolstered by furs like the ones Kara wore, and the warmth of honeyed alcohol swimming through their blood. Everyone was talking and laughing, and somewhere, some reedy pipes were playing, someone beating on a drum. The marketplace was hung with streamers in shades of purple and gold, braziers blazing at four points around the square. Balimund, the blacksmith, was doing something fancy with his forge, while a crowd of people looked on. Kara saw Leonara and Addvild, two farmers she knew, hocking goods like roasted corn and hot stew served in bowls made of bread. She bought one of their boiled crème treats, sinking her teeth into the confection with a fierce pleasure.

It was a good night to be back.

She saw several familiar figures clad in leather near the edge of the market, where groups hung back in the shadows, on the fringe. She was almost surprised they had surfaced before she reminded herself: New Life, free ale. _Of course_ they'd come out for such a sweet deal as that. There was a loud laugh, and she smiled, handing off her drink to someone with an empty hand, moving around to the outskirts.

"So she says, 'That ain't mine, that's my husband's!'" There was a raucous chorus of laughter. It was the perfect distraction.

Her hands were quick, fingers nimble, and this time when she cut the purse strings, there was no cousin to run into her and bump her from behind. She grinned fiercely to herself, before edging back around and standing up, entering the light where they could see her.

There were five of them: Vekel and Tonilia, arms wrapped loosely around each other's waists; Delvin leaning against the wooden railing surrounding the walkway; Vex sitting beside him on a barrel, kicking her legs and drinking from a flask; and Brynjolf, taller than all of them, red hair shining in the faint light, green eyes sparkling, arms folded over his chest as he surveyed the crowd beyond.

"Good one Delvin," she said, nodding at the Breton. "Really hilarious. But you know what's even funnier?" She shook the coin purse, the septims rattling around inside. "How much do you think is in there? Enough for Brynjolf to pay me back for his theft of _my_ purse four months ago?"

Delvin stared at her, open-mouthed. Everyone else looked surprised, even Vex, who had brought the flask to her mouth, but had yet to take a drink.

Suddenly, Delvin laughed. "I imagine there is. You sure know how to make an entrance, Kara." To Vex, he grinned and said, "You owe me twenty septims."

"I dunno, I think it's quite dull compared to last time. Could always try and rustle up a dragon, though, for a laugh!"

Everyone laughed but Vex and Brynjolf. The former took her drink, swallowing hard and eyeing Kara indifferently. "So? What's wrong now?"

"Besides losing you a bet, what do you mean?"

"Your cousin's lost again, right? You need our help to fish you out of some hole?"

"Vex," Delvin scolded, elbowing her in the head. "Who says she needs our help? Maybe she just missed us."

"Yes, I was under the impression you weren't returning," Brynjolf said, glancing at Kara evenly. "Why _are_ you here?"

"I…I've spent a lot of time thinking, and I decided I liked it here."

Vex snorted. "Nobody _likes_ it here, princess. But we do what we can to survive."

"Yeah, well so do I." Kara turned her gaze on the Imperial woman. "That's why I came back."

Delvin folded his arms across his chest. "Is that so?"

"Yeah, I uh… I did some thinking - soul-searching, whatever you want to call it - and I realized that the only thing I really know how to do well is steal. And I figure if that's true, there's a place for me here."

Vex cocked an eyebrow. "What if we don't want you?"

Delvin elbowed her again. "All right, that's enough. Everyone here knows Mercer offered her a place if she ever showed her face again."

"I'm just making sure she's really going to do this," Vex snapped, capping her flask. "And hey-" She leaned over and punched him in the groin. He groaned and toppled, falling over in front of Tonilia and Vekel. They just watched him writhe, their expressions amused.

When Vex straightened, she was grinning. "Welcome back."

And just like that, Kara had a job and a place to stay. If she had known it would be that easy, maybe she would've skipped joining up with her dad and just gone to Skyrim. Still, as she was learning, it was her experiences that had gotten her to where she was, her experiences that made her the person she was today. _And if that person just happens to be a thief, so be it._

The music kicked up, something fun, and there was a lot of clapping. Kara turned her head, watching as people began dancing in a circle around the well. The streamers rippled in a breeze. Someone grabbed her elbow, pulling slightly. "C'mon," the low voice said and she followed, out into the darkness.

They walked slowly, the music fading by the time they reached the Shrine of Talos, where they'd had their first real conversation together. The moon lit their path, but Kara walked close enough to feel him, just in case. Neither of them said anything, until he stopped at the gate surrounding the graveyard.

"How's your family? You didn't really say much in the, hm, let's think, _zero_ letters you sent."

Kara grinned, placing her hand flat against her chest. "My dear friend, are you offended?"

"Just expected you to update us on the situation we all got so invested in, is all."

Kara's smile faded. They all _had_ been very invested, laying their own lives down for her and Eiri. She bet if she reached up and touched his neck, he would still have the scar from the vampire incident. She owed him, for a lot of things.

"I'm sorry, I got caught up in being back at home."

"So? How was it?"

"My Uncle Harald is alive, and quite healthy. So far, there have been no repercussions, other than Eiri having to make up for quite a lot of missed studies. Things have been going well for them, and I was sad to say goodbye, but it was necessary. They'll do all right without me. I, uh, didn't tell them, but I left them quite a lot of money after doing some freelance thieving in Bruma and Cheydinhal. It should make its way to them any day now." Her grin widened. "I sent it to them in a letter of inheritance from an old friend I pretended they know."

"Clever. Think they'll take it?"

Kara nodded. "They will if they think a dead person sent it."

"And Eiri's well?"

"Yes, she's been enjoying her lessons once more. I just received a letter from her, and she says she's recently been given some time away from the college to visit for the holidays. It's good that they can see her. When we got back, she was in quite a lot of trouble, but her parents were just so happy she was alive, they weren't too hard on her. I gave her a stern talk about her daedra-loving friend, though." Kara looked down at the scar still burned into her palm._ Two of a kind, we are._

"And?"

"I don't think she listened."

Brynjolf frowned. "Wait. She told you in a letter? But I thought you just arrived today."

"Well, I arrived in Riften today. I, um… I've actually been in Skyrim for months."

"Months," Brynjolf repeated.

"Three, in fact." She looked up, meeting his gaze. "I've been on High Hrothgar, studying under the tutelage of the Greybeards."

He was silent for a long moment. "What made you change your mind?"

Kara shrugged. "A few things. Don't get me wrong, I still like stealing and I love money, but… I dunno, I suppose I grew up a bit. Mostly, it was the people here. Look out over this city, at how they're celebrating a new year, celebrating _life_. There's so much here worth fighting for, in the cities, in the wilds, in the people - and not just in Skyrim, but in Tamriel as well. Maybe it's time someone actually does it. And if that's me, well… I'll try as hard as I can."

Brynjolf smiled. "You've changed, lass. You have grown up."

"Yeah. A stupid little girl told me once, 'Sacrifice is the greatest gift.' I'm testing her theory."

"And how's it going?"

Kara smirked. "I'll get back to you on that."

Brynjolf let out a noisy breath. "I'm surprised. Didn't expect you back, if I'm being honest here, lass."

"Like I could resist," she said. "But honestly, neither did I. Like I said, I'm testing some theories, one of which involves me joining the Thieves Guild."

"You're the Dragonborn, starting to embrace your power, and you want to run with us. How does that make sense?"

"Maybe it doesn't. Maybe it doesn't have to. But I do know that you have resources unavailable to many others that might be more…conservative with the law."

"Uh-huh. What else is there?"

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I may or may not have something to do for the Greybeards. A quest, if you'd like. It's classified, so don't even ask. Important Dragonborn business."

"So there _was_ something you needed."

"Not from you necessarily, but from me, once I'm a member of the guild."

Brynjolf laughed. "And here I thought you came back for your esteemed friends and acquaintances. Turns out you're just using us for our resources."

"It doesn't hurt that I like relieving honest citizens of their shiny things."

"No, lass, it does not." Brynjolf sighed slightly. "It is good to have you back, Kara. You got a place to stay?"

Kara nodded. "Above ground, thankfully. I'll be right as Rain's Hand by tomorrow."

"Good to know. Mercer will want to see you."

"I'm sure he will." She frowned slightly, looking over at him. "By the way, I was wondering this: Whatever happened to Clavicus Vile's mask?"

"Oh! Right, that. It upped and vanished one night about a month ago. Next morning, it was gone. We've never been able to find it."

"Hm. Doesn't sound good."

"No, but like you said, no repercussions so far. Maybe Vile just wants us to leave him alone."

"Better hope that's the case." _I'd hate for Eiri to find out._

There was a pause filled with distant cheering from the market. A breeze blew past, stirring the ribbons she'd woven into her braids.

Brynjolf reached for one, running his fingers over it, tugging lightly. "These are nice."

"Thanks. Figured I might do a little something nice for my birthday."

Brynjolf looked surprised for all of one second, before grinning. "Well, well. Today's your birthday. That seems right." He eyed her up and down. "You look different."

"I feel different." It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Suddenly, plumes of light shot up from the market, streaking high, before there was an explosion, a chorus of pops, as half a dozen fireworks burst in the sky, purple stars and gold sparkles raining from the heavens. The crowd cheered and clapping, shouting for more. Kara gazed in wonder. _Guess we know what Balimund was doing._

She and Brynjolf fell into a comfortable silence, staring up into the sky as more and more fireworks appeared, silver and gold, blue and green, red and purple. There were even several made to look like the constellations, and one of Talos himself wielding a mighty sword. Kara smiled.

"Brynjolf?"

"Kara."

She reached for his hand, weaving her fingers with his. "Happy New Life."

"That it is, lass. That it is."

* * *

It was dark. The moon wasn't high enough to filter light in through the barred window, and it was dark, it was cold. Rats scuttled around the edges of the cell. He could hear their whiskers scraping against the stone walls as they searched for some tiny morsel, something left from the scant meals he devoured. He grinned savagely. They would find nothing.

From somewhere down the corridor, two guards were snickering, telling a story. "...told the wretch that if he even looked at me wrong, I'd stick 'im in the belly. Well, sure 'nuff, he decided to make a run at me. Was only right, what I did. Self-defense and all."

"Yeah, but didn't you whack him in the back of the legs with the flat of your blade?"

"Only to get 'im moving faster."

"Well, that's not self-defense then."

"Eh, the warden don't care. What's one less prisoner, aye? Besides, I never liked the look of him. Sneaky sort. No wonder 'e got branded."

The man in the cell looked down at his own brand, still raised and puffy, still a reminder of the hell he'd created for himself. His fingers clenched reflexively, as the guards laughed some more, before walking towards his cell.

They'd killed Jona that morning. He had seen it all, had seen the guard hitting Jona's legs, which were already sore from working in the mines he'd been assigned to for mouthing off to the warden. Jona had been a patient man, a peaceful one, but after so much time away from his family, after so many days and nights laboring in the mines, there was only so much he could take. He snapped and now, he was dead.

One of the guards had been a Nord, just like him.

That was all it took for the man in the cell to set his plan, three years in the making, into motion. He would mourn for Jona later, when he was finally free, and he could bring the news back to Jona's family.

He waited until the voices of the guards faded and the door shut, before he sat and meditated at the back of his cell, as he often did. The stone wall was cold, seeping through the thin material of his tunic. He closed his eyes, praying to Nocturnal for guidance and Talos for strength - if Talos didn't mind consorting with thieves.

When he was certain everyone was asleep, despite the moaning and mumbling down the cell block, he crawled over to the corner he had dutifully worked on every night for the last three years. Pulling a spoon out of a hidden niche, he continued to pick at the mortar between bricks, loosening the few down at the bottom that he had already picked clean. Digging in his broken nails, he managed to pry loose the lowest brick, wiggling it out into the open. He listened for the drop, trying to determine how far down it was, but a cold wind blew inside, and he couldn't hear. He moved onto the next one, and the next one, until four of the lowest bricks had been pushed out, and the wind was whistling around his cell.

He moved a layer up. Someone murmured in their sleep, someone screamed. Still, he dug and yanked, fingernails breaking, bleeding, as he pushed and strained, muscles seizing, protesting the sudden effort for the first time in years. With only two bricks left, he was wheezing and trembling, from both cold and exhaustion. He was weaker than he had suspected. It was taking too long.

A door creaked open at the end of the hall, out of sight from his cell. He could only barely hear the guards over the sound of the wind. He caught the words "noises" and "cold draft" but that was it. His heart leaped in his chest.

Shoving his shoulder up against the next brick, he threw all of his weight into it, until his muscles screamed and he was biting his lip so hard he bled. It suddenly dropped away, falling out, leaving him to slip, hitting his head against the wall. He winced, swearing quietly. The guards were moving closer.

There wasn't time to do the last brick. Instead, he turned and backed up, fitting himself into the opening he'd made. It wasn't big enough, his tunic sliding up, the stone and the floor razing the skin of his chest and back. He gritted his teeth, trying not to scream. His legs were out, swinging in the cold, and the only thing holding him up was his arms, his torso still supported by the bricks. If he let go, he'd fall out, into the night. He hoped it wasn't a long drop.

Light entered his vision, as the guards arrived. One was holding a torch, but it promptly _whooshed_ out when the wind hit it. "Hey!" the one with the torch shouted, pointing through the bars. To his associate, he said, "Get this thing open!" The other guard reached into his pocket, fumbling with the keys.

He _really_ hoped it wasn't a long drop. He looked over his shoulder. He could see the ground, but it looked hazy. Maybe fifteen feet. Maybe more.

The first guard dropped the torch, staring intently at him. "Where in blazes do you think you're going?"

The prisoner looked back around, smirking. "To find my daughter."

The other guard fitted the key into the lock and turned. At the same time, the prisoner let go, falling backwards into the night.

_Happy New Life._

* * *

**So on the wiki page for the list of holidays in the Elder Scrolls universe, the New Life Festival is listed twice, once as the equivalent to Christmas and again as the equivalent to New Year's. In this case, I wanted it to be New Year's, so if there's any confusion about the day/time, hopefully that clears it up. **

**Anyway, that's the end! Thanks so much to everyone who gave this a chance, and for everyone who faved, followed, and reviewed :) For updates on when the sequel will be posted, you can check my profile. Until then, I'll be working on some other things (Dragon Age and Mass Effect-related) and hopefully I'll post those too! **

**xo.**


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